SWARMING

A solid belief of karmic influence becomes 
fluidus 
but life was questioning again. 

You take to wars 
with thousand of nukes: 
still the daffodils were dancing. 

Float me on the bodies of bullet ridden 
moons and clouds: 
the red river, spiteful, has changed the course. 

Ah, the snaky hate 
hisses with split tongue. 
Mockery of towers plays again. 

The dumb leather did not forget 
the shape of the baby. 
million needles were still crawling. 

Thick boundaries were steaming hard. 
All nipples, no furs to walk 
on the flames.

Satish Verma