Lokenath Roy

November, 2003
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Lunatics

albeit- you have deceived me
while- the candles at the end of the hall burn on black fumes; rising
notwithstanding- the graveyard which no one shall weep for
howbeit- a leg steps forward; an empire turns the screw
inside- a mind brimming with colours
closets- filled with crockeries wrapped in black glitter
jacket collars- washed off blood stains; it begins.
timed- the bedside receiver rings
gongs- like a distant radio rambling in an empty house
signed- with the guarantee of lying lips
sealed- inside rooms with walls;
walls-walls-walls and they are all lunatics
shoot-shoot-shoot and those are our enemy.
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