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Poem

Now search the song of roof-making
The consolation of a slow day-
Romantic body of the Olive Barb in sight
Of Bioscope smeared colorful childhood-
Is the Cheerful voice. 

Now in the cataract 
The hum of flying flies-
The wonder Spell-
Spreading fragrance seeks sexual pleasure.
In Copper ground- 
Passionate craftsmanship of baffled muslin
There is a deep breath of darkness. 
Shady damp wind
Raise huge Mace in its hairy hands.

Now the smoke coil of death flies- 
Lolling flames- 
Crackling and flying tongue of crematorium wood
Welcome to its thirsty body. 

There is huge laughter in the death house 
At the door of the bloodshot eyes in hard liquor
The last heaven of the convicted Raicharan.
 
The allure of Dodder revolves around the swing 
Windmill suction engine-
Ejaculation of Machineries – 
Corporate animals seek satisfaction.
 
The breeze of the past Scattered- 
Suddenly with the regret of dull sex- 
The tail of the flying kite is lost 
The red magic barrel is lost 
Once lost the lofty youth.
Still why does it sound?

The melody of the bell rings
In the intense heat of the day?
Regret the day with broken bones-
Stuck in the waterlogging of Nirvana
The breathing system is collapsed.

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