satishverma

Many Namesakes

Boots in air
an elite brain hangs out
from the tall tears.

It does not search an exit.
Time moves out
with a murder in eyes.

Leading a spartan life
in a lair, in tune
with absolutely zilch.

A sexy mouth mimes
for a glittering tree.
Parakeets were coming in swarms.

Can you believe, he was
in a hit list
of a gliding moon?



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.