A dream-dead peacock, moon - Poem by Joy Goswami
A mound of earth a heart
Crowned by a set of bones playing
Bones. Dice. Bones.
A mound of earth, a heart
The ground awaits your spade and shovel
It's your right, so dig will you?
Clumps come away lumps of earth
Flesh earth flesh earth -
Dice. Bone. Dice.
Ulcer-lacerated the world
Is still afloat, offer it a fistful
Of earth a handful of heart -
What, afraid it'll kill you?
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