People ask for meaning
I don’t know what it is!
Meaning is the last retreat
That philosophers smell even after
A stuffing lunch
It’s the last wagon
Carrying a pregnant woman
For early metamorphosis
And delayed whimpers
I generally do not care
For pregnant woman or meaning either
For me Sunday is always
Sun day and Monday is perhaps
Moon day, yet to be rotten
Rain always a running river
And giirrrl, a jarring sound
Catch hold of throat
Like a bait, impossible to utter
Nor you can swallow it harmlessly,
While the wind whacking
The remaining clouds day by day
You flutter like a new-born butterfly
Let me smell.
I stand on the street where none dares to stop
And certainly no meaning
For my early cognizance.
Kousik Adhikari