satishverma

I WANT NOTHING

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