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The last drop
Bought from your wine shop
Can’t save my crop
I shall attempt to cry
Fast and bold eye drop
Without a funded irrigation
I shall sell again
My harvest without a red bell
From my farm
Beneath the well
Watching those eyes burn
Even when few clouds assist
And few turn soft pillows
Making it my debt
I am the last crop
Extreme labour is flop
Eating excreta manufactures
The bonus drop
For the heartless and the press
None left to resist
World media towards the right
Where its fresh excreta
Dawn repeatedly files
The oppressed draught
Of highlighted governance
And well-planned agriculture
With bone-beneath-root manures.

About the work:

The piece is a satirical take on the current state of farmers in India and the politics revolving around them.

Short Bio:

Born on 1988 in a small town of Silchar, Assam, India. Daipayan Nair is freelance writer/columnist, poet, fiction writer and essayist. His works have been published in a lot of printed anthologies and online poetry journals like The Poetry Breakfast, The Galway Review, Tuck Magazine, 1947 Literary Journal, Duane’s PoeTree Blog etc. He was recently awarded The Reuel International Poetry Prize 2016. His works have been translated in quite a few languages. He has also got a book to his name. His first collection of poems is named ‘The Frost’ which was released in 2015. His recent publication is a co-authored anthology of poems titled ‘THE VIRTUAL REALITY’ which was released at the end of 2016. Currently he is working on his upcoming project, a detailed poetry book on the new poetry form ‘Tideling’ titled ‘Parallelism’ to be published by the end of 2017.

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