satishverma

Returning Home

After dispossession, 
collecting the dolls─ 
dusting them off. 

Who was watching 
you, dousing yourself 
to give a political statement? 

Cutting the leaves 
of grass, I open 
the book of Walt Whitman. 

This was a targeted 
killing. I will not join 
the funeral procession. 

A mistaken lull. 
One day I will─ 
shoot endlessly.