since the cart decided to think for him,and the overworked analyst ---by his own mind—sits out today, leaving the cartto catch the half‑lit face of the woman reflected in lakewater !!
The child survives, though the blood insists otherwise.A tremor, a small animal of fear,and somewhere in the sugarcane a lark rehearses its entrance,unaware that the football boys nearly kickedthe blood‑smeared sweater into a new kind of story ৳৳
Today arrives blackened, as if it overslept.Blood signs on the leaves,the wheel‑cart notarizing the scene.The girl survives too, though silence claims her permanently.A fence of trees, a fence of sugarcane,a fence between husband and wife—as though fences were the only metaphor chosen to suggestcontinuity !!Call a scene a sign and the waves mewl ৳৳
No one knows how large a living word can bethe sky has to lose out against it, and the argumentThe lark keeps trembling,blue‑tinged cotton drifting across the lakea Uyghur shepherd wandering?or the unfinished thoughts of so many of you !!
He was the afterthought of a different poemclimbing a treetop—a fact no one asked for, yet here it is.Find me a wife, someone who can climb that high,who loves sheep enough to tug their earsuntil earrings bloom, blood falling, sheep crying,deafness spreading its blue lacquer across the lake ৳৳
A hook lowers the moon for inspectionBlood will comeThe wheel‑cart again !!The bomber plane, rehearsing its shadow ৳৳
[ The symbols “!!” and “৳৳” are used to differentiate the voices of the doll and her ventriloquist. It is up to the reader to judge which is which. ]