Valentine
Cajoled for a perfect kill
carnations were ready to jump for creating
a schism between future and past.
Keeping an eye on moon, a bald maiden
blew herself up in howling night
to slay a group of faithfuls.
Irresolvable it seems, a right to weep
for the dead. You don’t care for
living legends. The drones dive to eliminate
a hardened breed; kids run to collect
the regrets. Sky is overcast anointing the
unborn foetuses
Even a temple aches to shift the deity.
The stair collapses. Youths hide behind
kisses of holy books. A shoe is thrown
on the clock.
SATISH VERMA
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2009
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