No category Today 10:59 PM
River-once
With paper boats boys
tickle my ribs
and buffalos have turned me to a pond
there’s eaglewood in my hair
and stale flowers ,
every evening
as bells toll
in the forehead
of the temples
I see a man
on the steps
clean his arse
kingfishers and egrets
whom I fed
have flown my paps
Also emperors and poets
who slept in my arms
I am become a sewer
now, no one
has any use for vaikai river,once
of this sweet city.