Poetry Monster

Song Of Unquiet Spirit by Satish Verma

Staples were traveling on the 
epiderm, thanking the wounds. 
The dust, the eternal ugliness 
were growling. 

Riveting drama: 
a royal swanking for a macabre 
heist. A bizarre charisma 
overtakes the cozy lips. 

I was green, 
and I was a cloud 
where the sunflowers meet 
beneath the sun. 

Blind poppies assert themselves 
unfurling a flag of milky sap. 
The wasps were going- 
to become stingless.

Satish Verma


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