Wanderer by Satish Verma SignUp
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Theme: Life Share This Page
Wanderer
by Satish Verma
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  It was a taxidermal view 
thousands of fawns on the lake. 
Can you handle the die-off 
of the whole truth? 
I have nowhere to go. Genes are 
turning on, turning off. Bare hands 
holding the bruises. 

Hungry, but cannot eat 
looking at the tattoos on the back of 
starving children. 
I am sick these days in the midst of glory 
and shame. Faithlessness is a prize 
wrapped by shadows. The snakes 
are climbing on the walls. 

Human things, like chimps 
kissing and hugging to calm down 
in memoriam of a lost tribe. 
The body of a chaste god 
lies buried under the debris of unholy secrets. 
Homeless I wander, beneath the high sky.
Share This:
July 27, 2011
More By: Satish Verma
Views: 1135      Comments: 0




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