The Desert by poet, Jose Battan ......

Jose Battan •fine it is! I am sending a piece. Find how :
THE DESERT


FIELDSHOP

After the long story I slept on the hot sands,
Tired, an empty mind and body,
All vigour flown out-
Sweeping winds and hot flesh massed over,
She told her tales,
A thousand nights more,
Long thousand nights:
“I ain’t like your tales”,
And still she told her tales-
A thousand nights more
And on the first, kill her.

After the long story I slept on the hot sands,
I dreamt of hot flesh,
Hiding black mice,
Plaguing black death
Tired, I sleep
My wine finished, the desert remains,
A memory to remain,
As a mirage of the oasis,
Far through time unborn.

After the long story I slept on the hot sands,
In the lap of love,
Strangled by fascination,
Amidst fuming smoke,
Gyrating in space,
Plaguing black death.
And the idiot told her tales-
Of sound and fury,
Of hollow caves and mating dogs.


After the long story I slept on the hot sands,
Tired in mind and body,
A thousand nights more
And on the first, kill her.

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JOSE BATTAN
josebattan@yahoo.co.in