HERE LIES THE QUEEN

Folder: 
Satish Verma

The frozen voice hangs on the 
door. A crowd waits. 
Midnight explosions 
will start soon 
to herald a benevolent sky- 
for squatters. 

In rise and fall of an empire 
I won't put any label 
to generation drift. The 
changing geography will 
take care of the ashes. 
A ragpicker will tell the story. 

Ambulatory moon 
had become economical, blanching 
the stained dreams only 
like our land's wounds. 
The sea of hate lies naked before us 
to sweep the carcasses. I know not 
how to become omnivorous.