Lines More Lunatic Than The Sun – 2 Poem by murari sinha

I offer so much love to the orioles

after then
some defeats on the upper-level of the pea-leaves
have gathered somehow

then, the juvenescent white esculent fruit
that has a conch-shell shape
or the restless thunder
no one agrees to take the onus of maintaining my
feeding
and clothing
and sheltering

on some compulsion
I run to a grammar
produced by the water

it is her indulgence with which
I install forest in the mausoleum of the plural noun
install blending of sounds and compounding of words
and on reaching to the realisation of liberalism
I install a notun-bouthan also

I get pain very much
on observing the memory of the bicycle

to the laugher and weeping reserved for me only
why… without taking my permission… she sends
such an apprentice
in the hands of whose a-c machine
there is no fire-work
at all