He wants-
to sort through the voices
he used to hear-
in his head,

to understand the vexed past.
He will make his bent arm
a bow and shoot
a moon between the doors.

Walk with a snake in grass
and feed his children.
Irreverence becomes an import
from the strangers.

When you were burning
inside, what was the need for the family
of periwinkles
to condole with jingles.

A timer device
explodes on your face.
A human bomb unfathers
a class of hibiscus.

Satish Verma