Calendar Poem by Sathya Narayana

CALENDAR
The big ben clanged twelve times, dingdong, dingdong.
I tore the sheets and threw into the bin.
That space is now empty. I laughed along
with wall enamel 'Yeah...you're dead...I win! '
I heard her demurs, moans and prolonged sighs
of joy, nostalgia and some distress.
I didn't turn head. Nonsense, all lies...
she never delivered her promises.
I looked athwart. She was wiggling a bit.
Some keen cockroaches crept out, looked around,
as insects started gnawing it to whits.
She's crying now with crackling sounds aloud.

I hanged a new calendar to the nailhead.
She hummed 'I swear good days! ' My face turned red.

(Published in METVERSE MUSE)