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Excuse Me, the Author Is Dead What can I do, friend Except carry on this burden called life? All through my time I’ve sold cheap stuff For a living, a common salesman; Now that I’m exhausted, do I have the guts To commit suicide? Nah! My mind has the skinContinue Reading

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Autumn: An Epitaph Autumn comes no more to this country But we’ve memories of the season, Red cotton-candies inside glass boxes, and Children running after the candy man’s bell We invested our life’s savings. Our neighborhood birds woke up somewhat late Trying to adjust with the teasing chill, We’d grownContinue Reading

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Let whatever is gone be bygone If it is deeply personal Shut up your sorrow in the deep recesses of your psyche And shine your teeth or gums on You’re a modern man, a nobody, Your losses don’t matter to none Except the one that is yourself So, let bygonesContinue Reading