A Crouching Stance

A Poem by Satish Verma

It was an outrage. The weaver on the

It was an outrage.
The weaver on the
loom was brutalized.

A design was raped.
The color screams,
I want to live.

Septicaemia spreads.
Time to be ashamed,
when your gut was removed.

The salt hurts on
the bitten lips. A
genome falters.

Let me try to define�"�
who we are; and
where we are going.