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Wafer-Thin
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Satish Verma Wearing a straitjacket
you come out in open.
This was a black day.
You were not invited.
The economy smells of stale fever.
A pungent smoke rises
from the joints.
A decision drifts. Scare of
paper bomb stills―
the flow of tea.
There was a party.
People come and go. Skullcaps
galore. White on brown sugar.
There is no love lost between us.
smoking joints
I heard that to mean from the wrist, knees et a.l Joint has several denotations, however. ~(:D) slc