Ode on an Indian Death Bed

From the desk of Vitasta Raina

Time: irrelevant

Gutter rats

  sell peanuts

in the sewer

  below the store,

where Tokyo crowds

  test their beats

of melanoma and

  open sores.

The graveyards

  with cherry blossoms await

strange tides of radio

  active waves.

The moon

  has gone ...

missing!

Come back tomorrow!

Come back tomorrow

  no one lives here anymore.

The playground is empty.

  The cats are dead too,

And the leaves on the trees

  are not really green,

that colour

  is only brown

shaken by a few degrees

  west and then south and

then west again.

  The telephone chimes

in ringtones undefined

and cigarettes

 and tee-shirts

and a Vietnamese

  water reed ...

hat.

*

Acrylic on Canvas. (c) Vitasta Raina, 2014/15