Turns me on
I will write a poem.
Delirious moon had
There was thunder in the hut
teeth clattered under the ground.
Handcuffed you walk in inequality
to qualify for hanging till dead.
* The Dead Tiger
the hunt begins after sunset
under cracked moon, blindfolded clouds
start visiting volitionlessly:
To live again, I
will not come after dying for
the words will be buried
in tongue like nails.
A Family Dust
A thirsty town fails, harvesting the moon,
and turns into a vast lake of tears.
They were fighting for their right to remain
poor and hungry. It was a fractured