HPN

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Poetry of Issue #8        Page 44

Infusion And Iron

Late morning. The hangover
possesses half of my head.
The other half listens to the news.

You brew some tea, albeit
by the time I sip its insipidity
it has levelled down to the room temp.

I step out to join the pogrom,
cancel two men.
When I return the gun was still hot.



Kushal Poddar