Head Wound Poem by Satish Verma
Head Wound
Twitching will not stop
after you hit the bull's-eye.
Somewhere a nightbird,
had a hallucination, moon was
scared to come out.
The game we play all
the time. Tracing blue nudes
on the beds. A gang rape
went unnoticed by the
diehards.
A sphinx was rising in
east. What you have done
to stall the riddle of winged monster
sailing like hawk moth,
drinking your honey?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 11:01:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
