Not Longer Than Smoke

by Arik Mitra

The dead grass,
a lost towel hangs upon a nameless
Two bamboo ladders go up to the
competing to reach up to dim
orange light.
A pressure cooker hisses forth;
Announcements happen
of distant sighs — of the not-havings
of life.
Ambition fails to suffer in silence;
yet their names do not live longer
than smoke.

© 2021 Arik Mitra  All rights reserved.

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