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the last oasis

i’ve picked up an utterly forgetful sun-rise
from the deep of the wings of the hyacinth

with it till now i’ve made literate
one thousand busy over-bridges

it is not such that this is for the first-time
after alexander’s invasion on india
when the birds are also included in the infantry

rather it is ok that the charminer
in between the fingers of felu mitri
can speak out fluently the introduction
of the street-lamps of the city of kolkata

though the cards of the daily-passengers
aren’t disturbed to that extent

has any one ever seen
such candid halo of laughter
in the face of the charles’s law

with what intension the red ants
attach the round mark of vermilion
from their forehead
to the chest of the match-box

indeed there is no eagerness
about any fire sans blood

in the light and shade of the wedding-night
it is the reflected beams of the draught or flood
along which the cyclone of the tom-tom
would take a dip-swimming

on breaking the asceticism of the rain-bow
the daily-price list of the market
would take a turn to a new edition

is it better then to perform
an angiography of the diary
of the travellers
who are suffering from dreams

some lines of white hairs
in the love-lock of the pen
attract the sight

the abode moon talks over telephone

then let the last oasis of this city exist
in the cloth-end of the diesel-engine

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