Witch hazel jumps the
gun. Questions arise.
Why the cuckoo will not sing today ?
I am drumming the wall
raised between us,
opening a small window towards the sea.
Strange things happen.
Full moon was bleeding
Astringent. I call for the mountain’s music.
This fractured statecraft.
You become a stone after a blast;
moving towards the periphery.
Half-naked a statuette
was walking in night to find a
mortuary where Apollo was laid to rest.
Satish Verma
Delta. I was the fourth child.
The delta connection of a
triangular love. No blues.
Only cottony belly.
My copper coins. I want to save
them for making talismans.
My arms are entwined like
a python around the neck of a medusa.
That hairy push of a trident.
The stinging tentacles. The
polyp was enlarging. Now the
snake was shedding the skin.
Statesmen. They change their colour
like chamaeleon. Prehensile
tail trailing behind the witch-
craft of black goddess.
Satish Verma