Old Maxims

This was a twisted ladder
for reduction of poverty,
which climbs the steps during
methane breach.

An absent presence will
snatch away, your unconscious
surrender. The scent had
made a wall of its own.

A summer fall incites the
book makers. The naming was
a secret bet. The dead will
never recall the skeletons.

Spawning an army of robots,
will you go to the volcano mount
to offer a living bait?

Satish Verma