Poetry

A stunning hurl of androids
on command, pulled by empty space when
a talking primate decides
the course of universe.

A non-existent living
from moment to moment prepares
a moon man to jump into religion
for salvation.

The wedding of tin sliced,
dumping bodies, of forsaken brides
of gloom, widens the want of rocks
and people give a black-lipped approval.

A plane load of hand grenades
and missiles and rocket launchers
nourish the smug ideas of a watershed
on the discovery of self.



Satish Verma