Tie the thread to the farmer!

Marry the Bride to the Groom!

Arrange a wedding for five billion people,
We are approaching the end!

The old lady, the Guru and I,
We are making effort.

People are cruel.

Just off the ashen pavement, obsidian in the dark,
A boy is playing PlayStation, so –

Kurukshetra! Ping,
Lakshmi! Ping,
Mohammed! Buddha! Ping, ping.

She looks hypnotised, and I?
Am cold.

People are cruel.

Road rage is the immediate and sudden reconfiguration of,
A prior expectation and we are doing well,

It is in this moment,
A crisis which kills on the streets of America, and

People are cruel.
They have left the Guru here and gone to bed.

♦Picture♦ Personal♦

– evocative, short poetry –

Published in: on August 13, 2015 at 15:51  Leave a Comment  
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