(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941 / Calcutta (Kolkata), Bengal Presidency / British India)

We Real Cool

The Pool Players.
Seven at the Golden Shovel.

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

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Comments (2)

A mystery of life, the presence of omnipotent and the love of this life well written.
I really liked this poem - its simplicity is enchanting and you could almost hear the heartbeats of the besotted watcher behind the tree.