Statics cackle. An orchestra of insects
plays a leathery elytra music,
and the riverboat leaves the jetty
as the city becomes another kind of insect,
the one whose belly bags the soft fire in protest
against the darkness of the late springtime.
Leaving? Where to? I hold a paper ticket
to ticking oblivion. The insects dissect silence
and murmuring of the commuters alike, and then
there hum the machine, water, shadows.
The other Bank is nowhere to be seen.
Find and follow Kushal- @amazon.com/author/kushalpoddar_thepoet
- Author Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/KushalTheWriter/
- Twitter- https://twitter.com/Kushalpoe
- An author and a father, Kushal Poddar, edited a magazine – ‘Words Surfacing’, authored seven volumes including ‘The Circus Came To My Island’, ‘A Place For Your Ghost Animals’, ‘Eternity Restoration Project- Selected and New Poems’ and ‘Herding My Thoughts To The Slaughterhouse-A Prequel’. His works have been translated in ten languages.
photo by Dylan Nolte
