Serial Blasts

satishverma

Crushing the tangerines,
escalating the dissent
of lean eyes
for a slaughter in the trench.

Unadorned, the little soft
hole, I watch
display of hair,
teeth and shoes.

Who had conceived
the invasion?
Time clock, you need
a prosthesis to move.

Dehumanize the littered
street. This has become the empire
of death. No crying would
be allowed under the feet.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 20th, 2015 22:00
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 14
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