Comments about Seema joglekar
My Itinerary! !
Like an old melody straying down a deserted subway at night,
My itinerary goes around for a spin & falls around me like sawdust,
I start to live on borrowed breathe,
With the moan of a bee & the onion undraped.
All small talk gathers a morass of solemn dignity,
With nobody’s pride slashed or losing an identity,