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Kaaktarua

  • For the Greater Good

    We used to have the time of our lives. You and me, going crazy over the swings. We used to nick your Daadi’s* pickles and eat them under the gargantuan ...

    • Short Story
    5 min read


Poetry is my cheap means of transportation. By the end of the poem the reader should be in a different place from where he started. I would like him to be slightly disoriented at the end, like I drove him outside of town at night and dropped him off in a cornfield.
— Billy Collins