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POEM: Strange Language

It’s often thought that rationality and morality can’t coexist under the same roof,

but it’s rationalization and morality that are incendiary roommates.

Mid-monsoon Kolkata, when torrents back up the lines, is as noisome as ever,

but far less noisy as people seek shelter and an incessant spatter shushes.

Everybody gets crapulous on Thanksgiving, but no one will admit as much

because it sounds like one is bragging about one’s dietary roughage.

I’d like to think that I’m generally combobulated, sheveled, and gruntled,

but who could I tell.


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