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Stones in crypt
Stones in crypt

It was midnight moon

cruising in the bedroom.

I step aside in the depressed window,

watch the overwhelming spillover.

I listen, then do not listen to alien voices

of bipolar beings, speaking Aryan,

artfully in cryptic signs

crunching the bones.

Black crucibles throw up bright stars,

in cruciferous crow bars. Pungent

smell of armpits. Dizzing heights

of memorials, becoming digital targets.

Deathless deluge of totems, claim the

corpse of earth. The screams start

coming from buried caskets.

Divining rods disappear.

Blue spirits trying to fly away.

Satish Verma

-------------------------------------------------------------

STONES IN CRYPT

It was midnight moon

cruising in the bedroom.

I step aside in the depressed window,

watch the overwhelming spillover.

I listen, then do not listen to alien voices

of bipolar beings, speaking Aryan,

artfully in cryptic signs

crunching the bones.

Black crucibles throw up bright stars,

in cruciferous crow bars. Pungent

smell of armpits. Dizzing heights

of memorials, becoming digital targets.

Deathless deluge of totems, claim the

corpse of earth. The screams start

coming from buried caskets.

Divining rods disappear.

Blue spirits trying to fly away.

Satish Verma

-------------------------------------------------------------

STONES IN CRYPT

It was midnight moon

cruising in the bedroom.

I step aside in the depressed window,

watch the overwhelming spillover.

I listen, then do not listen to alien voices

of bipolar beings, speaking Aryan,

artfully in cryptic signs

crunching the bones.

Black crucibles throw up bright stars,

in cruciferous crow bars. Pungent

smell of armpits. Dizzing heights

of memorials, becoming digital targets.

Deathless deluge of totems, claim the

corpse of earth. The screams start

coming from buried caskets.

Divining rods disappear.

Blue spirits trying to fly away.

Satish Verma

-------------------------------------------------------------

STONES IN CRYPT

It was midnight moon

cruising in the bedroom.

I step aside in the depressed window,

watch the overwhelming spillover.

I listen, then do not listen to alien voices

of bipolar beings, speaking Aryan,

artfully in cryptic signs

crunching the bones.

Black crucibles throw up bright stars,

in cruciferous crow bars. Pungent

smell of armpits. Dizzing heights

of memorials, becoming digital targets.

Deathless deluge of totems, claim the

corpse of earth. The screams start

coming from buried caskets.

Divining rods disappear.

Blue spirits trying to fly away.

Satish Verma

-------------------------------------------------------------

STONES IN CRYPT

It was midnight moon

cruising in the bedroom.

I step aside in the depressed window,

watch the overwhelming spillover.

I listen, then do not listen to alien voices

of bipolar beings, speaking Aryan,

artfully in cryptic signs

crunching the bones.

Black crucibles throw up bright stars,

in cruciferous crow bars. Pungent

smell of armpits. Dizzing heights

of memorials, becoming digital targets.

Deathless deluge of totems, claim the

corpse of earth. The screams start

coming from buried caskets.

Divining rods disappear.

Blue spirits trying to fly away.

Satish Verma

-------------------------------------------------------------

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