GOING NOWHERE

On the blue icicles 
you were colliding with orbiting electrons 

naked legs on rocking chair 
were expecting the visual words to spook 

for clairvoyance with the sun decline beyong borders 

my eyes are damp, I know the bottom 
was echoing after the shipwreck nevertheless, 
archives were swimming in muddy water. 

Can you defeat the throb of pain? 

The fake drunkenness of bailouts, it was 
still not happening – the whiteness of dawn, only 
gray clouds over the peaks, speckled with 

orange blooms, the shadows of red blood, 
a million despairs of avenging marriages 
of voices in dark sea.

Satish Verma