Vulgar display of Power

Nishachar III

Purloined wood crackles,
bringing warmth to sunken cheeks,
and the heart's cockles.

A cigarette glows,
like a cyclop's watchful eye,
moving to and fro.

Sweet mischief of dogs,
under an orange streetlight,
looming in the smog.

Idols worn and wise,
in states of sacred neglect,
under peepul trees.

Under angered skies,
the metropolis still breathes,
weaving memories.