IngressionA Poem by Satish VermaAfter tasting the homemade poison, the walls,
After tasting the homemade
poison, the walls, start moving. The poppies are in bloom. I am not interested in morphine or codeine. A sago palm has come of age, preparing to put up the conical sex. A trust deficit will not know, the signature of veneer, of the gender. Something moves behind the bushes. I was already afraid of emptiness. After the violence, amputations and barrenness. The desert invades my bones. Cannot sleep with hands on my chest. Will you collect some runners? I want to raise the grass for the sake of commanality. © 2016 Satish Verma |
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