The night at her fashion-less wedding
On the nude streets of Balasore,
Beggars hunting sleep
After day’s wrecks,
Trees luckless at their
Mid-widow life, yearns
For a rainy day’s dance-
Men with their salted tragedy
Glancing women,
Women meaning grammar
At their heyday, wearing roses,
God forbids sleep.
Only the dark perching
On the top of tree
Washing hands till
The tinge of blood out
Or washed,
Shrill cry of street girl
Heard, hunger strikes
Empty breasts, abdomen at once
With both his hands of thorns
Till the night grows green,
Till Dark’s washing finishes
We can speak about
Avenues, roses or
Empty smiles’ nude parade.
