For the Clotting
seething yet silent in land of outrage:
strictures of life,
my eyes will not see the setting sun;
this was the blind spot
before the battle starts
and spine turns into ramrod in hot sun –
to speak the version of domestic grief
without lips because the death does not come alone,
she has a company
of corpses swelling the earth but she also
plays piano with two fingers only
pouring out milk and venom
for a long journey, we start unprepared
I will not fall asleep
SATISH VERMA
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
