Pyaar to kai trha k hote h
Mgr na jaane hmara ye ksa pyaar h
Pyaar k to kai naamo ko ME btadu
Magar smjh NH aata ki hmare is pyaar ko ME kya naam du
Jo kbhi hsata h  to kbhi rulata h
Kabhi naraj krta h to kbhi mnata h
Or jb shk krta h to uske agle hi Pal khud se jyada ykin krne lgta h
Agr khuda b aa kr hmare is pyaar ko byaan krne ki koshish kre  to shyd vo b nakamyab **
Kuki hmara pyaar vo nhi jo lfzo ME byaan **
Pta h mera dil bht ziddi h..  Hmesha ek hi zid krta h
Khta h ki vo tumse milna chahta h.
Tumhare kareeb hone ka ahsas mhsus krna chahta h
tumhari baaho ME jo sukoon milta h vo sukoon mhsus krna chahta h
Tmhari aakho ME aakhe daal k tumse bt krna chahta h
Tumhara haath thamna chahta h
Lekin me usko daat k chup kra deti hn
Mgr kya kru yr apne aasu rok NH paati hn
** ske to Mj cchor k kbhi mt jana
Kuki agr tum mj cchor k chle gye to me apni rooh ko NH smjha paungi ki ab b  **** ME ruk jana
Agr Tmko mjse door jaana b pde to khud ko kbhi akela mt smjhna
Me US lmha tmhare aas paas hi hongi mj mhsus kr k dkhna
Hr Pal dr lgta h tmhe kho dene se
Mgr phr khudko smjhati hn ki is janam nhi to kya hua, agle janam kon rok skta h tmhe mera ** dene Se
Me nh janti ki hmara saath kb tk h
Mgr itna jaanti hn ki hmari rooh ek tb tk h suraj chand jb tk h..

whenever i drink with friends, i wake
up the next morning thinking i had a midlife crisis
and bought a yacht with my debit card,
given that i was using the card on 3.50 pints of guinness.*

a loveless scene, that is, full of laughter
and itemisation of the surroundings -
in an adams’ family house type of pub
with gargantuan pillars and more expanding lung space
than in an asthmatic convention the troopers
gathered for talk of almost anything.
one was giving into the psychological testament
of “stealing the show,” playing on the whole social aspect
of respecting the presence of strangers -
a william blake quote was heard -
but since it wasn’t properly quoted the suggestion was:
don’t quote poetry verbatim within a millimetre off precision,
it’ll show you’re not a poet, plus the listener will not investigate
something that’s quoted perfectly.
the quote: had anger with my friend, told my anger
my anger did end. hand anger with my enemy,
didn’t tell it, my anger grew, found my enemy dead
by the apple tree. the prompt for all this? pears,
we were talking with pears in mind.
- we’re talking drinking after a bottle of brandy and three beers
having walked the distance between romford and seven kings. -
all throughout it was concerning to look at the old man
and two frisky girls - we’re talking: are we really going to be
the young philosophers? all the old men in our age are corrupt,
i wouldn’t trust them with a pen let alone a sword -
so while the youth languished the old man took to the girls -
but i laughed on purpose to peacock myself into the eyesight of one,
in the end, i got as close as getting her to go outside,
kissing her hand and forehead and doing some māori hongi,
but then she started with auschwitz dating dynamics: number! nummer!
schnell schnell!
oh right... my house no. 01708766... that’s as far as we got, before she lost
interest and i ended up walking home with a traffic sign signature’d
by my fist; that’s how i practice, hoping for an even connection
between my index and pinky knuckle;
and now? now i’m going to drink a stale 7% with a cigarette **** in it,
cough up a saliva schnitzel and wear sunglasses.