THE RHYTHM OF THE BUTTERFLY Contemporary Poetry Anthology by Santosh Kumar Biswa
My Head teacher’s graffiti on the wall Early morning, in front of the still assembly With six hundred eighty heads facing down, Yield, my head teacher so furiously gazing Who without quetch doesn't get satisfied Every single day, from the start of school. His frustration, more unique than ever After his first ever rhythm in the campus, Filled with wrath upon seeing the graffiti On the wall towards the right corner Of the school toilet, so nasty and horrifying. The bulging nose and saggy hair in it, Reminded me of his untimely remarks. Both its eyes facing North and South, And a black stain on its shiny bald head Reminded me of his disorganized schedule. And the round face that the graffitist made Reminded me of his anger so wild.
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