Poetry

Twitching will not stop
after you hit the bull's-eye.
Somewhere a nightbird,
had a hallucination, moon was
scared to come out.
 
The game we play all
the time. Tracing blue nudes
on the beds. A gang rape
went unnoticed by the
diehards.
 
A sphinx was rising in
east. What you have done
to stall the riddle of winged monster
sailing like hawk moth,
drinking your honey?