BLACK POETRY

Folder: 
Satish Verma

A black swan was worried 
about the debt slaves 
and misogyny, 
sailing along the 
marbled slopes of red meat. 

The ghosts in white cloaks 
of truncated wombs, wait 
for the pearl’s extraction 
from the doe eyes of future. 

Can you trust the truth of 
the city which will not climb 
on the rooftops to look at 
the white moon? 

Instead you get paid for the 
crimes you did not commit. 
Now you will write your own 
epitaph before you are shot 
down on the back.

allets's picture

Insightful

and well received - that pretty much says most of it from this view, the world view, and what the universe will see when we no longer have eyes. Gratitude - Stella.
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