Icons of evolution and
loud men made a circle
of nihility, leaping high,
splashing the black perfume.
Nicotine reclaimed ne plus ultra.
Lurching thrusts reached nowhere.
Dirty fingers held the prosperity.
The dialogue of root
and earth started a nameless fire.
Hunger stunned the leaves,
brutalized by unmanaged truths.
The sting operated in dark.
Let going the lights,
phantoms were starving.
I saw my face for the first time.
I accept my responsibility
for closed drapes.
Doors were banging in terror
and there were sparks on the roof.
The blind walls squirmed.
It was time for your roadmap
to show the lines,
sign the winds.
Satish Verma