Jibanananda’s life came to a sudden end by way of a road accident when he was only fifty five On 14 October 1954, he was crossing a road near Calcutta’s Deshapriya Park when he was hit by a tram Damn that tram Sam Damn that fucking tram

I have a friend Who will be hung tomorrow We have not known Each other for that long I have struck up A friendship with a mayfly We have not known Each other for that long

The yacht is reflected  The sea is glass  Nothing moves 

Abstract patterns In ripening fields Gulls following tractors Far out at sea

Heavy tunnels over country lanes Blossoms dripping from hanging trees Fields being readied for harvest days Orchards bare yet already busy Nothing had prepared me For this wonderful journey 17th April 2025

I have just seen the light It is not an urban legend It happens once a year On the occasion of his birthday But is it the morning sun Or something far greater

Emma Patterson collected pearls And kept them in a small velvet box She had a sister named Orianda Who often called Emma My Little Watercress Sister Which she secretly enjoyed

I often sit with Christine On our leafy balcony Opposite the statue of my father We share soft citric sodas And smoke secret cigarettes

It was an unusual July day As it had rained constantly Despite the air being soft to the touch You stood in front of me Wearing just a damp chemise It was then that I noticed The raindrops on your bare shoulders

Two plus Two equals Four I agree Two plus Two Does not equal five That is obvious It is absurd to say anything else Anything Else Funny Girl Josie Joe & Josie