~For Pradip~*
Pradip: who yet walks among we useless
<>
this
layabout in my drafts,
driftwood in a sea of
******* poems in a circumscribed
hell
for who knows for how long,
all that is certain is that
summer ending dreading,
is in full force
now marching
forward,
with the end of days
of body chilling whipped winds,
cold so paining no one be bothering
to breathe out white steamy curses
and life is a half a calendar league
too far to be believed
I mate much coffee imbibed,
the cheeks wet incessant,
no error, the death thots~
throes come in waves persistent,
like the monsoons we’ve survived,
it’s easier to recall army of losses
than the few
teaspoons victories,
who cares,
they plentiful companions,
reliable,
and we
share them with cups of black tea,
salted by our tiny tears that this too
shall past
for:*
it’s the seasonality of our lives,
and these are the days of
unending unendurable
grayscale
WRIT &ripped
ri sand to rip on9/19/24
