Blue Heights

There was an unease in the flock
of lovebirds. The lynx was on
calling again every night.

An execution on a wheel
was a better choice
than to die without speed of kill.

Cannibalism becomes alive
when you start eating live-
words without shedding a dropp of blood.

What was the urgency to invite
Ginsberg on paper? The ink
was still superstitious.

It was invisible.
The destruction of an impregnable.
When the moon explodes, where will you go?

poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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