Submissions by ApratimMukh

The only relationship that we could share
Is that of a poem and a poet;
Alas!
I am not a poet,
And neither are you a poem.
Hence, we must call it off.

I have moved from a hole to a fucking hive.
"Shrugs,", she said, and for a moment it was all
Worth looking from afar.
That pale view of skin from three rows back ,
That view of the tangled gob of hair from three rows back;
Is it the same combed mass down there?
Is there freckling?
All that hardly matters now.
Nothing can be left behind as easily
As something you really need.
This time round, at least, the fingers are not involved.
There were not any shirts, as was said;
The world outside, however, was intent on vengeance.
Every...

Closets were made for clothes,
But now, humans need them more than most.
He walks down the dreaded path of alienation,
Like so may who went before him.
The sun shines on him like everyone else,
The girl in front with massive boobs looks just as lustrous
And Conniving.
His dreams, however, were vastly different.
He had never experimented in college.
Forty-six was a bad time to be lonely,
But the future never held up anything good.
The rum and coke from last night was now down in the gutter,
Worms swirling through it in arid blackness;
They...

Well, punishment awaits those who are drawn towards it
Like lodestone is to a magnet.
My fingers, long since satisfied by a figment of my
Festering imagination, seek closure.
The pink shirt had come off, but the veil
Was never lifted.
In doing what she did, the bitch with
Globules rent apart the cloister of my rancid feelings.
Her globules shone like steel benches on a warm day of April;
O Delmore, I can't see my own face in the mirror!
In black, she is even more comely and alluring.
My amorous cranium coughs out these lines like an old...

The music plays
it keeps playing on and on
As she starts taking her shirt off
In the light filtered by her windows.
I had decided to follow her from afar,
But, as is known, distances are often closed faster
Than we think.
Her bra is off, and, all of a sudden,
Two perfect globules stare at me
Like robust balls of flour.
Her pierced navel is like an eclipse,
Shadowing the all the desire of the lost yesterdays.
The shirt's on the ground, but the part's pointing upward
Like a pole bearing a fluttering flag.
The walls close in...