Rain.
The child suffered it.
The mother had to.
I walked past them and flipped a coin.
I am human.
Only Humane.
----------------------------------
Painting.
The canvas lay white.
Colours were mixed and
I didn't like any of them.
The woman died.
Inside me.
-----------------------------------
The truck wheels shrieked.
Friend looked at me.
His eyes were two adjacent pools of blood.
His fallen wallet was safe.
The cards were intact.
A stray dog looked at the blood.
I didn't care.
I was checking an FB message
on my Blackberry.
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4 comments:
Love the poem but concerned by the extreme apathetic sentiment of the characters :) One of those dark moods I guess where nothing but the ugly side of humanity is visible. Shades of modernist poetry
@ Soumalya -
Dark moods have become a necessity. It has power and power is a life force. These are the turds of necessity forcing life force into survival. Modernism is just a shadow waiting to lick the leftover blood. Reality is the essence.
I liked the painting one. Beautiful and dark and sad and a whole lot more.
Thanks Jo.
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