Poetry
diary
by Anirban Acharya
there is not even a one in that night
i rethink the line as someone on tv
makes lampshades out of leaves
tomorrow: meeting computer screens
restless is a word after which one should pause and stop
i forgot the events to be described in this poem
there was either a sofa stuck in a sand dune
or something to that effect
like eyelids sleeping alone
only sprinklers keep working for smug greens
snake hoods of water protect the wet grass
and i am thinking what i thought is right
poetries are machines of self indulgence
a kite strives with electric wires
it seems for a long time now
there could have been in that mist
everything we thought
we would not be able to see