Let home’s mosquitoes run
Like the  far-off Rohingyas,

In our morning newspaper,
Just above an obit column.

Let birds bury kin in grief
In  tree’s illumined silence.

Let it be cracker outburst.
Let sleep dissolve a night.


Death in the city

Her scooter hits the pot-holes
A city’s body wears for leaves.

It has eyes of holes in a skull.
City has wind hissing in them.

Crane has eyes set in chassis.
Woman falls to pot stomach.

Road wears holes on its body
Death has eyes set in chassis.

Mom’s hand

The mom’s hand would walk through
Piano keys, slow as in snow and gale.

Piano was a pale ghost in her hands.
Its music laid spectral magic on boy.

Her hand is a pale ghost in his hair
As if walking slow ,in snow and gale.

(reading poem Glimpse of a Childhood by Rainer Maria Rilke)



Bull nods enormous head
Literally under a blue sky

Its master concludes that
Everyone’s future is a sun.

That famished old parrot
Brings out our future card.

Their own beastly futures
Are words shining by sun.

The sky is blue with words.
The sky is rife with future.

Chest beaters

Morning walker enters the street
To find new tent house installed,

A temporary sky fixed for a while
With plastic chairs for mourners.

After the chest-beaters will leave ,
Old blue sky shall be reinstated.