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Bravo and the Poem | A Poem by Ananya S. Guha

Pants loose
I play a quixotic way of living
lies heaving
and outcastes leaving
but when pants are loose
the muse within has a
tremor, a shudder should the ship lose its rudder
but where I live in this town
I have a little gown
in which I drown to tell
what the hell loose pants are nothing, for idiots doting.
After all, all this let loose
in a moose can result in a poem
a doyen of life
after life and the alter ego
which breaks all life in one
go. Bravo!

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