Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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A Primate In Distress

Putting the sun behind me
I walked into the stars, beyond the
succulent lake.
A bitch drags you

on asphalt, walking with lipstick,
purse and follies.
Changing the daylight on every corner
you drink a toxic juice
in the recess of darkness.

A theater goes in frenzy
after the bloodbath and inferno in a tunnel.
The spray of hormones will cool you
and I will remember
sadness and sugar
hanging from the bright moon.

A fallen hair, traces the path
of a gorilla.
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