User Review( vote)
written by: Sunil Sharma
blast, shattering like glass
the ear drums
in the manic cities across
road rage on mute
on streets chock- a- block
with polluting vehicles.
The serial sounds wafting on smog
up to the top floor in a glass cage
brilliantly lit by a moody sun.
The horns have
varied scales and notes
keep on circulating, as bad currency
and sting like the yellow wasp seen
decades ago in a normal childhood
in a town full of trees and shrubs and flowers.
and no bees or wasps
in the post-modern purgatory
called by a better name, mega city of dreams.