The Lost Generation Poem by Satish Verma

Sitting on the lap of a moonbeam
transcript of a gender
plays with the gun.
Manhood was at stake
I will meet you in a cauldron.

I was arrested in the house, was
moving from planet to planet. Cavernous words
seek the letters in right order. Puns
revert to mud-slinging. The heart spills
red wine.
No more beats.

What next after albinism? Dark was beautiful.
Waiting for the light, which never came.
A devout survivor brings hope. I will
discover my god in particle.
subatomic, expanding.
I want to walk in mist and snow
over the bridge, on the bald clouds.