a poem on ravage

We discussed
metastasis
discussed sanitization
in popular poetry

we discussed
the difference between
poets and poetry
running into each other
on heavy traffic

only to be
replenished the way
death in his milk jaws
chewed Jibananda
regurgitated
into cosmic cud

And swallowed again

We discussed roots

not tap
not fibrous
not any other kind
but a kind with the sense
Of ants

We arrived
after a night’s long talk
over Kyber and
the silk route
that runs between
the cliff of small and the big red toe

We realized
we had turned
bird bone hollow inside
thus floating
like two skeleton silences

on a plate
of blue, blue, blue ocean

in a while
like two Chinese
gypsy librarians
we earnestly asked each other

if the path ahead
leads to infinity, chaos
or stasis in our little radios

We discussed the map of emptiness
landfilling and eventually
disappearance

where the two of us
are islands exiled
in different current