Wednesday, May 4, 2011

I Am A True Pathan

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come what may
i will never delete
you she said
than with a
rusty agonizing
blunt butchers knife
she conveniently
coolly chopped
my head
leaving
my writhing
body
that bled
she left me
for rodents
scavengers
moved ahead
poetic pain
a poets blood
turned greenish red
ok firoze
she had
embedded
with a burning tong
on his forehead
worrying
that they
might make
a holy shrine
of a beggar poets
dead body
she dumped
him like osama
in the sea bed


tears on the soul of beggar poet dickhead

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