i'm a man, right?
and that's why, me seems,
i feel so much attracted to my own diluted shadow...
moses basket... (2)
the baby was sleeping
when a headlight saw him...
in the moses basket, it became
visibly yellowed to urinate by the side of an Indian footpath
the balloon... (3)
the balloon is a very bad item...
it appears to be a condom, to an adult boy,
a bag without a testicle, to an adult girl,
a red breast without red berries, to a weaned child
and a thing of no use, to a schoolgirl,
whose skirt everyday balloons out in the air
and the century shoots its eye...
our baby-food existence... (4)
we are in the prams, waiting to receive stupid bypass-notes
from a cultured menagerie of humans
wearing babygros our eyes
welcome the victimized visits of caterpillars
and still we support the keatsian hogwash...
switch off your mobile please... (5)
– hellow, would you like to make me upside down today?
- ok, we'd play some fetish...
bijoy kumar bandyopadhyay put forth homilies to no one
in presence of all liquidated conscience...
on the sixth slack moment... (6)
even the gold of the sun has leaked out...
and I am nestling...
... am nestling
like a surrendered apple
to a ravishing line of teeth