The cat waited for her house owner
in the evening after the mass shooting in a mall,
an usual gloaming midst all the palaver
about the climate change, dictators, stalls
of sugar inaugurating besides the sugar stalls.
The old man returned not; the cat did
on the following day and night,
ate from another resource, moaned
at those swaying summer leaves
casting susurrus shadows on the stairs.
The house owner waned away from the cat’s
People listening to the news heard
Basil recalibrates the summer.
The aliment consists salad and breeze.
We lift forkfuls of good heat
and before we digest the mass shootings
life nourishes life. Because I feel the sting
I am alive having a summer dish in your company.
We both know moon rises somewhere
behind those acropoles; life may end life;
gun may reproduce sons of a gun;
basil for us, blessings for the demised;
because we discuss we live to discuss some more.
Authored ‘The Circus Came To My Island’, ‘A Place For Your Ghost Animals, Understanding The Neighborhood’, ‘Scratches Within’, ‘Kleptomaniac’s Book of Unoriginal Poems’, ‘Eternity Restoration Project- Selected and New Poems’ and now ‘Herding My Thoughts To The Slaughterhouse-A Prequel’ (Alien Buddha Press)
Author Page – amazon.com/author/kushalpoddar_thepoet