Anemia
A sage plant scrambles for the
mob, walking out of bed
and begs for a death.
The adolescence had become
graphic. Do you agree with the
splurge of moonlight under the street light ?
The unborn stink was hovering
after the shipwreck. The seagulls
were bewildered.
There was only one slogan
for the black booth.
Priest was sitting cross-legged in a liplock.
Satish Verma
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2012
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