satishverma

HUMAN LAB

Half-buried in a mud pit, 
a polluter bares all, body and soul. 
Hands bound, ready to be stoned 
to death. 

A god was going to kill a god. 
A dense judgement of planet green 
of an unreliable sun 
scribbling a code of conduct. 

My god, I will go insane. 
Save my woods I say. How can 
be the adam was so naked running 
in a race gene altered? 

My arthritic fingers again lift 
a mansion of gold leaves, dissolving 
the sky. 


Satish Verma

Satish Verma