The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide

Head and Torso

Nothing-ness fills me 
again. Once visiting a funeral
home, a child asked me,
why do the people die ?

How do I explain the dark 
side of life ? A blunt trauma,
makes me jaded. One collapsing
process creates the black hole.

A nude, the tall figure, stands 
on the rock, much venerated, 
and you cannot take off the 
eyes, deciphering the skin.

In the intense pain of?
learning, a fantasy of 
looking out at a ghost deity
in the vegetable, springs a miracle.


Satish Verma
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace