Smoking a poem;
by Marc Daniel Nair -
I am constantly on the look-out for poets,
chain-rhyming, five-stanza-a-day poets,
palming their pencil and notebook in back pockets,
lighting up lines with the practiced ease of habit
I search for them in sunlit corners of trains,
between shelves of public libraries.
I find them pacing and waiting at bus-stops,
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