Poezja

It was a freak accident of epithelium
under anaesthesia.
You place a window
on to a hollow brain.

The money makes the monkey out of you.
A green light
blocks the fish, your memory,
to swim in black thoughts.

The yellow rose burns
in your hand. It was beginning of
a domestic race. The nightmares will
take care of the sleep.

Satish Verma