Consciousness Inebriated Poem by PARTHA SARATHI PAUL

Shall we take It as a gospel
or an oracle that calls out
from the lofty ivory tower?
I miss the voice or only blurred fragments
reach me when I gaze at the hub of a fast carousel!
What if I sing a carol in a choir of my carousal buddies?
What if a prater carries the day
on his ghoulish gibbet and paints the world red?
Many carrion crows peck at many grand caryatids;
no qualms of Casanova merriment haunt the ember ego!