Ingression

Ingression

A Poem by Satish Verma
"

After 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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Added on October 7, 2016
Last Updated on October 7, 2016
Tags: homemade