market square

After ‘aaj bazaar mein...’



market square is full.

the concentration in their eyes

as a freed man rides


past like a slow dribble

half disgust, half

heartache. Who is still pure?


who likes elderberry and who

is still my sister? do any brothers remain

in this city?


there should be a cremation

in the square tomorrow, our friends have died for us,

they are abroad, and have left us

alone, in the market square

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