this vulgar handiwork of time

 

the cigarette butt gets charred in his fist,
his belt sneaks out of a loop
penetrating the orifices of the wind.

she complains of the food not cooked well,
to hell with the homie, since the mad uncle of
KFC is so hypnotic, handing out lollipops,
but not to the random connoisseur sitting
at the roadside, muttering abuses of
disproportionate shapes and sizes.

where there is sanity, there are decapitated
fingers tapping on lurid screens, lapping to
the other side 5 kms away, 100 meters are
too desperate, after all.

who wouldn’t want to suck the lactating nipples
of this evening, and
bite into the rhetoric flesh of silence that
encloses this open-to-all soirée.

we are not indelible, nor are we buttressing unsaid
fetishes in our guts, so why bother about it,
shadows won’t question, lights would, but for that
we are left clinging to these lampooned lamp posts.

there is always another evening, let’s keep our end
of the bargain after all,
there is always another evening, let’s stay desolate
once more.

.
Linking it up with Poets United

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20 thoughts on “this vulgar handiwork of time

  1. Kerry O'Connor says:

    I so enjoy your phrasing:
    where there is sanity, there are decapitated
    fingers tapping on lurid screens..

    Wonderful writing.

    Like

  2. sanaarizvi says:

    where there is sanity, there are decapitated
    fingers tapping on lurid screens

    Your imagery and diction always leaves me astounded! Gorgeously penned!

    Like

  3. there is always another evening,
    let’s keep our end of the bargain after all,

    There is always an opportunity in the future. One will appear fair to give enough space for eventualities!

    Hank

    Like

  4. “penetrating the orifices of the wind.”

    Of course somewhere out there Divinity is taking note of the goings ons
    here below
    Happy Sunday Anmol

    Much love…

    Like

  5. This is such vivid imagery….so powerful:

    “who wouldn’t want to suck the lactating nipples
    of this evening, and
    bite into the rhetoric flesh of silence that
    encloses this open-to-all soirée.”

    Like

  6. magicalmysticalteacher says:

    Staying desolate is not something I personally would want to do, but the narrator seems content to make that choice, so who am I to argue?

    Like

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