Salad Poetry and Salsa Dance
salad poetry & salsa-dance
…thus riding on a memory-bicycle those people who used to go to pick up dry straws grasses
twigs from the daily-payment of the squirrels are neither the husband of any wood nor the
wife of any wood-apple...at the best ...they may be one page full of must-dos regarding keep-
fit practice of one’s health…
around the grazing field of the night-gowns
in course of a long-journey by train one has to cross
many grass-hopper-points
one-piece of life is this
in its daily walking to pick up the pebbles of
which is the amplification of what
the bodies of all prose and poems are touched with
by the sunshine by the wind by the rain by the water
it-may-be-for-you afternoon is running
running
is the people after the office-break
running are the broken people
the sullen public
due to late-running of train
before the darkness sets in
on bare branches of the tree
clusters of crows
are running
forward steps of the return-home people
are running
many invitations has been remained
unattended … accumulating…
accumulating…
so much anger…
many secret pains…
tears…
the life is running
in the rows of the flying birds
the life is running
in the meat-houses…
in the shopping-malls…
in the churches…
in the wheat-fields…
running … running … running…
salad poetry and salsa-dance are also
running…
in the letters of the alphabet…
in the swarm of mosquitoes…
from William Shakespeare
to Rabindranath Thakur
the sky is running …
the air…
the sunlight…
Copyright © Murari Sinha | Year Posted 2010
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