The night holds weapons, battlements, arms
how fat it grows, full and strong, with the wooly
thickness of a coat, and the deepness of a well;
down, down, down we both go, holding hands
with exhales flaring up, hot flotsam on the sea.
May 25, 2018
Night Out
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August 26, 2016
A Hard Wednesday
August 26, 2016
Chronic Misunderstandings
April 9, 2013
Streets of India
Skyscrapers glossy, the village dust
Hollow sounds of an empty stomach
Burgers, fried chickens, bellies to burst
Half naked juveniles, ill-fated luck
Mammoth cine hoardings standing tall
Sleeping beggar with a ragged bowl
Monies pouring in for a new mall
Pot holed roads, people crying foul
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