Sleeping, is waking up
in a world of happy possibilities
that leave us jittery sometimes.
It is an escape
from the gunshots of reality.
In dreams, the bullet opens up the body
but the mercury closes in.
Blood has different color there
not warm and sticky, but shiny
and in surplus. There is no loss
of blood and ventilator is
just a plaything.
We wake up to judgements
"Bad, Heinous, cruel"
"Should be eliminated from the map"
A trance of disbelief still
hangs in the air and there are mikes
that lose their sleep struggling
to fill the mouths just like
the 47s a few hours ago.
Pills are out of stock
and there is panic everywhere
not like when there are only 15 killed
but 150 killed.
1 comment:
A telling comment on the goings on.. esp when something so horrific happens.
As always, you draw it well with unusual metaphors.
Post a Comment