Pretext Poem by Sujoy Bhattacharya

The wood cutter sniffs the blade of his axe.
He smells the blood of the tree.
He fed the fetid blood to the brook
In the pretext of cleaning his axe.
The weary woodcutter went home for rest
Besmearing his languid body with the
Soothing balm of the crimson dusk.
Hurling his axe at a corner of his
hut he supped and took shelter over
his wife' s unclad body - lewd invitation!
The mid- night moon kissed on the axe
a merciful touch for unwillingly killing trees.
A wretched fly trapped in a spider web
asked for life to the gruesome spider.
The spider before ingesting the fly grieved to say
" I didn't invite you to my arena, dear ".
When my mom cursed thunderstorm for killing my brother
The lightening retorted, " Who asked him to ignore an inclement night "?
The polestar and the the Mars chided the comet that wounded
the limbs of the downtrodden Earth!
I could not help musing over the cosmic conversation!