Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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A Small Chance

Standing on a sandisland
I was looking at the landscape
of the aura of a lobbied avatar.
The chill was spreading on the river unfazed.

The sassafras had a logistics network
to penetrate in the oysters, becoming
grayish white pearls of wisdom.
It will protect you from any insult.

When the temple of learning was
being rebuilt, the words were finding
an echo in sky’s fear of abduction.
The sun was hiding behind the lies.

In a trance I move unmindful
of interbreeding. Some grizzly thoughts
were near the cave of skeletons. The
panther was readying to jump out.
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