A Story Of Bad Karma

Poem By RIC BASTASA

the curtain in the room is transparent
silky, embroidered with tiny light red flowers

light is filtered and air is lazy
laughter is restrained at first until the drinks come

glasses click and talks are varied
times come anew
memories of faces come out from the graves of our
forgetfulness

the room soon is filled with smoke
men smoke and women sip wine on their warm sides

the lives of other people start to be opened
the talkers are surgeons scrutinizing the intestines and bladders

there is a small man whose hands are like cold forks
he is looking at the fat man puffing smoke and bragging about his gains

fortunes backed by crimes and
money laundered and shared in secrets by conspiracies

no one notices a bee landing on the navel of the fat man
whose belly comes out from his tight shirt

instantly the bee left a sting
and the man died.

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