Lorca’s body will never be found by debasis mukhopadhyay

I am not a silent poet

clouds    clouds only flash past the waters    such noumena

at Kennebunkport i’m learning to be peacefully aware of the clank of the wild roses that are not my business

i can’t sentence enough though my memories barking at my heels ever since i woke up in a cabin not very far from the Dock square where last night i believe a kind of green of something gossamery near the windowsill was hankering for the warm breath of the stars through the rips of a sultry sky

& yes with a new name without forgetting my bitter name i was thinking of the merriment promised behind the yellow door left ajar

the lamps & my memories were gleaming enough to lug my heart    calcined enough to subside into the duende

so doomed yet trim & jaunty my heart finally floated

last night at every bend of Kennebunk river the drunken boat…

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