HEAVENLY GUIDANCE

A quivering mud lamp under the basil 
was sending signals for benign inconsistencies 
and a covert interceptor 
to stop a death to himself. 

It was a no moon day 
to monopolize the open eyes 
and closed lips. Piercing screams 
were coming from the empty chairs. 

A garland of currency bills or pink snakes 
for the leader breaks the music 
of averted eyes. A terror attack 
starts frisking the souls. 

It wakes up a slumbering century 
of fossil books. The birth anniversary 
of a smoked thesis starts. The masses 
start descending like buzzing flies.

Satish Verma