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Poem

7.
the leaf of jack-fruit is luxuriant 
i can’t remember whether i ever notice 
the portrait of your face on it  

there are so many words 
that are slippery 

how much rustic is the dust of the legs 
of the young person is known to the road of the city 

daubing green on both palms 
i call for rain …oh rain ..oh rain 

and into that rain i let my wrist-watch float 

thus the great rainbow unfolds its wise mirror 
on the scaffold of bottle-gourd  

from the bright cloth-end falling down 
the odour of detergent 

thus the applied mathematics of the diesel 
is learnt to a greater extent

8.
behind the change of colour of the swelled wind 
the samovar plays no role 

though you know it you tear off tears 
from your eyes 

and the merry biscuits that are kept in the jar 
raise a joint demand to serve them 
after wrapping with new banana-leaves  

and the funny thing is that no accounts is found out 
of the expenditure on the lip-stick that was used 
by the fishes in the aquarium  at the time of illness 
of the antenna

by the hands of the clock stretching their shanks apart
is it possible to know the actual age of a comb 
either it’s costly or cheap

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