The Book Poem by Ayan Dasgupta

I read the book and it was a good book
Able to stuff my head with typography

I leafed through those pages in brazen frenzy
And soon,
Words were telling me…

I stopped by all those gates,
Open or closed – by every possible entrance
Looked at each and every face
Eyed every little grimace, twitch, passion

And soon,
I was able to make mountains from moles
And change mountains to colossus,
All the while in a train ride
Running through every possible tunnels

Lost completely in it, I was
Lost in those moments of indecision
Churning out elements of obsessed charm
From long committed desires

It was a good book – I swear!
Still it was a good book
With nonsense in those countless pages
Two days it took to devour them all

Then suddenly it came –
Turning over the last leaf
I was lost and was found
To be lost –
Never to be found again!

The release – the desire – the demise
And this was it.