Idiot Poem by SRIRANJI ARATISANKAR

Idiot

Rating: 5.0


The damp mound
Dark tunnel!

Path-speed
Passer - passion
What is there? What is there?
Hot slush and slime...
Salt bedaubed body.

Be reached anywhere?
Sweat oozing
Virid
Festal mound
Tickling sensation

Seeking cosmic pleasure
The idiot penetrated the erected limb into the tunnel..

Who bothers restrictions?

Thursday, May 26, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: idiocy
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