The rule of inertia: The eight syllables – The hand
A blank wall watching,
an iron tumbler turning into a gold leaf covered with few ancient pictographs.
Some driver left his mummified mother in the bus on his way to the valley of red houses.
Someone stopped tap dancing before a crowd of old men.
A naked child stands motionless over a flying airplane
and just then the opened staircase changed its color.
A singing clown gets lost inside a maze of mirrors.
Someone stitched back torn hands to their arms.
A colored landscape photograph burns over a broken toilet seat.
An un stretched canvas vibrates at guitar’s sound.
A knife-sharper parked his bicycle beside a red, burning car.
The green grass grows around the tall staircase.
Someone pasted a photograph of an eclipse over a wall…
already clustered with wall-clocks.
The tube light flickers, in front of the blue eyed girl,
with few empty frames casting shadows over her.
Teapot discovered its disfigured nose hanging like glue.
A goldsmith locked sunflower leaves in his ‘leather’ covered safe.
Invisible candle-box falls over the stairs,
burning window glasses and myself with red shedding skin.
A boy joined lame protestors on his way to school.
A lamp and large ballpoint pens burns silently over a transparent desk,
beside a blue ‘window’ view. I
ce cubes catches poisonous breath of the busy staircase.
Rule of inertia unfolds a river.
And god died once again.