the moon was sleeping
beside me in the dark room.
There was a shift in the stance
of window. No wind either was
coming, nor going.
Should you be calling me for an
interview, be aware of the bipolar
mood swings of weather. Sometimes
it is hot, sometimes it was freezing.
If you have a sharp knife, download
it in spirit.
The tribes are fighting for drugs,
money, land and withdrawl syndrome.
There may be a toss for a run-off. A rendezvous
with tulips will make a big start. I am
tired of paparazzo. There should not be
a slide show –
of truth and lies. The situation is very
catastrophic. Whosoever wins will not
bring drinking water to parched lips
and light to dark books. Take me to
last resort of pain. I am going to sleep.
I stand tonight before the moon
and commit suicide in a beehive.