I understand your need for crispness.
You curtly quieten me when I stretch.
What gets to me is your sharpness
about this shortcoming.
You play in seriatim an unabbreviated
version of your seasons with trappings
of a mountebank, stories best wrapped
in gossamer of goodbyes.
That is my argument against academe.
They forget. But I hear you.
My oohs and aahs fresh as first time.
It’s a ritual you and I do not tire of.
Or maybe, like me, you know but are not keen to put
the kibosh on my charade. Laps of loneliness swim
acrossthe unwritten pages of your festschrift. Age
does this. It tutors us to accept our limitations.
Sanjeev Sethi is the author of three well-received books of poetry. His most recent collection is This Summer and That Summer (Bloomsbury, 2015). His poems are in venues around the world: The Tower Journal, Peacock Journal, Rasputin, Red Fez, PoetryMagazine.com, The Penwood Review, Easy Street, Mad Swirl, Novelmasters, 3:AM Magazine, Morphrog 14, Poetry Pacific, Transnational Literature, Postcolonial Text, Meniscus, and elsewhere. He lives in Mumbai, India.