Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Skipping The Steps

A tree waits to hug me
after shedding the
leaves. The man

becomes a child, entwining
the snaking trunk
for a brush with infinity.

The supreme dedication
become humane, enough
to kill the non-man.

A lethal mix of
parodies brings a comic
relief to sparring partners.

After all you discover
the white fog, god-made
to unlisten the lyrics.
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