SUNFLOWERS

A preacher was shedding 
dirty tears 
for burning hills. 

Pinned up on tongue 
was a slogan. 
Death for all sunflowers. 

Draped in blood 
who was trespassing 
the sickle moon? 

I cannot raise the mist 
where you stand naked 
in sunlight. 

Somebody has killed 
the pathological god. 
I am starting a new kitchen.

Satish Verma