satishverma

NEW KINGS

And there was history 
to map the terror. A neoplasm 
was arising suddenly in the aching skull. 
Chorus of wailing: the burning will not go. 

Clouds of dense smoke were mindless. 
All the centuries were smouldering 
in the hearts of waiting children 
while the bombs were swaying from the tree tops. 

The fat men and women were melting down 
to define the master and slave in the 
dark chambers of commerce. The ravaged 
body of truth anoints itself with blood.

Satish Verma