Plasmolyzed Poem by Satish Verma

This was a troubling concept─
to start a dress rehearsal,
of ethnic cleansing.

Something pokes out─
on the tail end of the story.
There was no heart in the game.

You are driven like a─
flock of sheep. The shepherd
lives in the fortress of slogans.

A placebo effect was quite-
evident. Everybody was
drunk on sugar pills.

Unadulterated, the swearing─
had become genetic. You start
walking on the burning coals.