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Always Self-Deception
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Satish Verma You collapsed―
on the stairs in frenzy
falling into a debt trap.
The moon was asking back his pain.
This was a naked aggression.
Kitchen was not ready for roots
and flowers and footprints
of staggering price of being alive.
Riding in a Humvee, the
rhetoric fails. The lies become
spiteful. Your arms holding
a wavering testament.
Religion of sending
a young legate of death, to veiled
untouchables, to spread
the glitter of bones and red meat.
A gift of asking to become
blind, nothing less.
