Under the Sign of Necessity: for Nabaneeta dev Sen.(Brief Article)(Poem)

 
   In the comfortable room, our bellies full 
   We had been talking ideas, of language, 
   And you had read a poem 
   The one about your young men hardened 
   By killing in the name 
   Not of their mother, but Justice; 
   And I had read a poem in return 
   One about the bomber with the pretty smile 
   And teeth like Mac the Knife; 
   And my wife sang a song 
   The one about tribal law and turtles 
   And then finally (except there is no finally) 
   Your "household friend" came in 
   And sat like an Inca with her shawl 
   Which lifted like clouds from a mountain 
   When she sang those long notes 
   That fluted from ...