The Walled City Poem by Rafique Farooqi

why not the cage fixer,
be punished,
and traps of hunters ruined,
and strangulating hands shackled,
the rusting flower feeded,
to scorpions,
eyesight diverted to back head amensia walking on the barren road eating mascarene grass with creepy bray to pause shrewish utters of pained revenges.
The house full of bald scalped maniacs making louder applause. over rubbish demo of stupid boss.
the feverish skulls,
running to exits,
latest hells open to fools of walled city.