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April 08, 2024


By Sanjeev Sethi


Poems of my prelapsarian phase
were expositions of anxiety.
They weren't proximate
to Parnassus but were outlets
for oddities I had to code and confute.
This pooled into my consciousness.

Do not arraign me for eructating.
Others are wedded to wristlets.
Mine, if any, is mediocre poetry.

Article © Sanjeev Sethi. All rights reserved.
Published on 2020-04-13
Image(s) are public domain.
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