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Poem

Vasant Abaji Dahake

Bogeyman

One more bogeyman
flaps on a calendar, bragging.
They’re all prisoners of hope, shoulders
sagging in the present, lips festooned
with platitudes;
the loose change of their lives
rings on the floor, rolls away.

These treacherous seasons of ecstasy
go striding like colossi
across my torpid body.

BOGEYMAN

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Bogeyman

One more bogeyman
flaps on a calendar, bragging.
They’re all prisoners of hope, shoulders
sagging in the present, lips festooned
with platitudes;
the loose change of their lives
rings on the floor, rolls away.

These treacherous seasons of ecstasy
go striding like colossi
across my torpid body.

Bogeyman

One more bogeyman
flaps on a calendar, bragging.
They’re all prisoners of hope, shoulders
sagging in the present, lips festooned
with platitudes;
the loose change of their lives
rings on the floor, rolls away.

These treacherous seasons of ecstasy
go striding like colossi
across my torpid body.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère