Boots in air
an elite brain hangs out
from the tall tears.

It does not search an exit.
Time moves out
with a murder in eyes.

Leading a spartan life
in a lair, in tune
with absolutely zilch.

A sexy mouth mimes
for a glittering tree.
Parakeets were coming in swarms.

Can you believe, he was
in a hit list
of a gliding moon?

Satish Verma

Poetry In English
Latest posts by Poetry In English (see all)