I'm getting really tired of poets telling me there is an inherent distinction between poetry and prose. Neither require metaphor nor line breaks, and if the difference between them seemed like a stale artifice when Bukowski picked up his pen, it seems even sillier now.
Adding fuel to my arguments are the wonderful "prose poems" of Prasenjit Maiti. The lush and complex symbolism of these pieces leave within you the feelings of depth and sensuality that only poems can provide, yet there's not a line break among them. He experiments with the form fearlessly and successfully, giving us a beautiful series of images that are wholly his own creation.
Dr. Prasenjit Maiti is a political scientist by occupation and a writer by compulsion! His print credits include 2River View, Blue Collar Review, Brittle Star, Brobdingnagian Times, Carillon, Circle, Concrete Wolf, Diner, Famous Reporter, Green Queen, GW Review, Harlequin, Hermes, Homestead Review, Konfluence, Micropress Oz, Monkey Kettle, Nightingale, Nomad, Paper Wasp, Parting Gifts, Peeks & Valleys, Phoenix, Poetic Licence, Poetry Church, Poetry Depth Quarterly, Poetry Greece, Poetry Scotland, Promise, Pulsar, Quercus Review, Rattle, Red Lamp, Reflections, Skald, Skyline, South, Spinnings, The Journal, WinterSPIN and Xtant. Dr Maiti has been widely published in electronic journals as well in the UK, USA, Canada and Australia. His CD-ROM credit till date is Heist. He of late tends to specialize in monologic prose poetry. You can write to him at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Prasenjit's works here at Unlikely Stories are:
Calcutta Oh Calcutta!
Sound of Silence
In the Season of Winter