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God, Save From Indian English Poets

My God, wherever are You,
Are You listening to me,
As here lie I on the hotline,
Reporting You, Your staff reporter perhaps,
May take me for,
Save me, save me from Indian English poets and poetesses,
English not, Indian poets,
Calling themselves
Wyatt, Spenser, Drayton, Shakespeare,
Milton, Herrick, Herbert, Donne, Marvell,

Pope, Dryden, Johnson,
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Sunday, March 9, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Art
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM

So no one wants to write another Shakuntala? The poem about the hermits blows my mind. The falling scene mesmerizes me. But I know why you have to write this. It's good you did. Would you be so kind as to read my poem Hide & Conquer. It's very brutal & crass, but I'll leave a true judgment up to you, please? Thank you.

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