FIGHTERS AT LARGE

A nebula rises unfazed after fission: 
after a fractured debate, greed crouching on 
the wrinkled noses of rugged bouncers. 
In remote history someone was burning itself out. 

A black eye surges forward, sings an ode to 
championship. Ankles swell up. Veins become 
jelly. The thyme is absent. Stink bellows on 
your faces. The green pond becomes red; tragedy of wounds. 

Speaker in bloody silence quotes the black sun 
out of despair. Everything was in disarray. 
In mating of souls flesh flew in rage; 
a pink river swamped the inmates of tomorrow. 

Enough! Time marches on the dead leaves of sorrow. 
My candle burns at both ends. Alien moons 
keep a watch. Bloodlines are obliterating. We 
seek the graves of unknown soldiers!

Satish Verma