Abhisek Bandopadhyay

The spectacle
of eventuality
is to see
how it's not a good idea
...

These lights
are rather bright, the
floor carpeted, clean;
the people mostly
...

It's
quite easy
to arrange for the murder
of inspiration.
...

The nerves keep their habit
of stretching thin and breaking inaudibly,
most pitifully,
every chance they get.
...

Can't tell
where I've been living
for years now, from moment
to moment in precarious enthrallment
...

Another day,
I tried to figure what I'd say
if we met again, impossibly somehow.
...

No good
at small talk, except
with animals and people I've
grown to trust, and see
...

It hasn't
been too long
since a time I lived
out of hiding... yet
...

You tend not to notice until
you find some
places changed... some people missing..
that the skies remain just
...

As most
of the Gods of Grunge
keep killing themselves, it's apparent
that the burdens
...

The habit
of poetry has bled
into conversation, where I find it better
not to talk
...

The moon's
gone missing in the branches
and leaves enmeshed overhead, that
allow no light
...

Despite the suits,
the wheels or fancy shoes,
the polish
of your specialized gesticulations,
...

I'd like all my bones
to scREAM HEAVY METAL! ! when I die..
as headbanging hoodlums
rive asunder my lifeless corpse, limb from limb.
...

...

There are times
when you can't be brave alone…
after putting up the bravest front
before your dying.
...

Grey wings come upon me..
arising, by the moment,
behind each bruised shoulder.
...

And if you look
a little
closer, the street
had always stretched to the floor
...