Professor must be groaning underhand
With an obvious thought:
This boy must've devoured tons of drugs
Didn't move
Not an inch!
She'll doubt even if I breathe.
I'm following the ticktacks
While the copycats are swallowingwisdom.
On my way to varsity
A woman was crying out: "My Allah!"
They found half-putrid body of her son
In some septic tank:
That was the street-talk.
James Joyce? Is it his name?
Is that what the professor is talking about?
Not sure, my heart's bleeding at the backbench!
Why doesn't the chaos of consciousness leave?
Why doesn't this poison let me sleep?
The poet is a student of English Discipline, Khulna University
