After dispossession,
collecting the dolls─
dusting them off.
Who was watching
you, dousing yourself
to give a political statement?
Cutting the leaves
of grass, I open
the book of Walt Whitman.
This was a targeted
killing. I will not join
the funeral procession.
A mistaken lull.
One day I will─
shoot endlessly.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: July 13th, 2017 22:52
- Category: Nature
- Views: 29
Offline)
Comments1
wait till I get my gun
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