Ekalavya my little fellow
the way you fire with that double barrel
rusting at the roots
reminds me of fake encounters
...
A ruin in menopause
Souparnika has shrunk
heaving drier banks, where
pebbles like aborted fetuses lie
...
Call a spade a spade,
call the old man a beggar;
he is fodder for poets.
...
Like the wind whisking
the pocked ripe leaves off the ground
lets them fall again,
...
I
Until yesterday, Taj Mahal had been
a mothball-scented dream
...
The alarm is set to go at 5 in the dawn.
When it bangs like a monster
shivering with rage the first thought
in the oppressed sleep is about the sun
...
Among the debris of throwaway time
lay a wooden box.
The painters held sway over the house,
and from their digging of unlit spaces
...
At school he taught us chemistry.
In life he shot the wisdom of kill.
We called him Gunmaster.
...
The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn’t just one of your holiday games;
T. S. Eliot. “THE NAMING OF CATS”.
...