25 October, 2015

Toxicity

First listen to your heart.
No poetry will walk tonight―
without fear.

Sometimes you will find―
words will not descend/to heal
your ache of unslept poems. Hovering/
like the obsessive hawks.

The migratory, adjutant/
storks, had not come to roost
on the tall tree―
naked as they are.

Democracy always/sends
erotica/to take off your mind
from the trivial subjects.

Fireworks resume the celebrations
for the fugitive/who returned
home after drinking absinthe.

Satish Verma

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