Belle De Jour by Kumud Biswas SignUp
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Belle De Jour
by Kumud Biswas
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(For Louis Bunuel)

So bland and flat to taste
This my daily bread
Myself have I often asked
Isn't it boring
Isn't it monotonous
This bathing in the same bath
Sleeping in the same bed
Doing the same dull round
Going through the same bloody motions
Every day?
Making a virtue of necessity
I lost all the zest
I forgot life was so vast
Limitless in possibilities
There is so much to savor
Why should I rot in the same rut?
So I went on an exploration
Strolled into an eatery in the market place
Tasted a variety of spiced dishes
That activated my salivary glands
Once I saw your friend there
He has a lot of money to spend
But not much discretion
Or that Japanese gentleman
I thought he was a queer fish
With a queer taste
But he was a veritable hippo
With far above the average weight
He left me crushed and utterly dazed
But strangely pleased
It was not your feather touch
That scratched only my surface
It shook and shredded my very core
There was a virtual parade
Of persons and predilections
In that gynecologist
Anatomy and physiology
Had left no sense of mystery
He was intent to invent
Something bizarre
Something out of the ordinary
And that duke wanted to communicate
With heaven and hell
At last what I got was too hot
Very trying to my palate
But it made me concupiscent and content
It made me more hungry as I ate
It burnt like liquid lava
It was so excoriating and intense
It burnt all the way
As it went down my hungry gullet
It set my blood on fire
It was an exciting adventure
On a dreamboat to a heady dreamland
It was a complication I wanted to avoid
I had gone out a dull habit to break
Now it threatened to invade
My life both indoor and outdoor
Forced indoors I am amazed to find
It is no longer stale
It is no longer sterile
You found me a dead fish
And were often annoyed
For a change it now tastes so fresh
Now come my love
Take me in your arms
In a crushing embrace
Make our duty fun
Make me feel
We are not fettered but are free
And tell me honestly my friend
Is it what we call love?
And is it a one-way traffic?

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April 16, 2006
More By: Kumud Biswas
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