Memories - Poem by Boudhayan Mukherjee
I brood about measured iambs,
Feel sympathy for different poets
Very indifferent Indian poets.
They once taught in Chicago univ
Half-witted students, owls
Like me in purblind darkness.
So when I speak about them
My memories turn black and sticky.
I brood about the clock with a single hand.
A teacher is one's mentor
When I teach I wish to be my own mentor
Often shaking my fists at the black-board.
Bored? Yes, the students are always
Bored to tears.Go and dig your sorrows
In wet-slate darkness.But my sublime
Interest is in pink dresses and matted tresses.
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