by Partha Sarkar
I put aside
The rosy
The sharp part of the heart
And throw away the conscience of the science
When I find a shadowy world
Where a clear bastard
Chewing the quid of the tobacco
Burns the birds
Breaking the vaginas
And rubbing palms
I look to and fro
To find a barber’s shop
To be clean shaved
And from then on
You must not ask me
Why I copulate unnecessarily.