Pouch Poetry 18 - 19
18.
who has lied in the box
made up of the temperature
of god
all on a sudden
there is a hue and cry
in the abdomen of the time
wearing a dirty pajama
actually that has been filtered up
from the voices of rock-songs
the roaming
of a fatigued traveller …
the lies
within their wishes
write my existence
and then run
to buy vegetables
from the station-market
so many lay-offs
come to the body of paper-weight
to listen to all those
is not improper
walking through the traffic-jam
gradually
this home becomes solely my home
one day the golden of
human
then it is i
who is you
and walking through the
monsoon
on either side of the field
it is all autumn
19.
when borrowing the religion of
the night-queen
i fall in love
then is it real
that our mangos and jack-fruits
can make the perfumed-soap
vigorously from the light of the
blood-line
i count the bells of the churches
ringing repeatedly
and piercing the image
of your prominent face
rounding through lots of old
the love becomes exhausted
and the love comes back
in the form of college-classes
there are you myself
and so many notes
of the body
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