by Shahed Sadullah
In a poster I write every day-man.
Then, with these people
when I wanted to cross a river,
a fish rose with a dive.
Some mud water had accumulated in the algae.
The fish was silent there.
Straw, dust-clouds were also frownless.
I took the people back and
wiped one by one with white-out.
The fish just said, inside the paper,
the lines that remain,
how do you delete those?
Now my room is just a pile of white papers. The pile is becoming so large like sky.