Schism
After being robbed
you want to hide your
poverty, like sex.
Someone is going to flaunt
the kisses of moon.
The sinking of twin islands
in lake begins. Claspers
were poised to hold on the tree-
house. The privacy was
threatened. Nobody will conceive tonight.
The erotica wins, temple fails.
A lone wolf smells the wind,
invades the obscene closet of
a god to find locusts
riding on each other devouring
one’s own.
Satish Verma
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2013
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