PUSSYFOOT

He was wading through the frozen pain 
unhappy at himself. 
Staring vacantly at the blurred stars. 

Who was not guilty when the staircase 
collapsed? The half-men were busy 
in arranging to open the trap door. 

Amplified hunger was spilling like 
acid rain, changing the colour of 
fault-line, kindled bellies. 

A twin murder has yet to be resolved. 
There is no more pursuit of the menace 
and the fear lurking under the dirty eyes. 

Green stomach sends the odor, 
becomes a reminder of stones in the bowl. 
The thick men are walking on air.

Satish Verma