The murmur inside
outside is warm
the murmur is unceasing
I am spun by it’s loquacity
its wavering tail tapers into
a signature of unceasing
murmur, I take the tapering tail
look outside, read papers and
see dead signs of politics.
We can’t forget Pulwama
how can we, as soldiers die
like cattle, tethered to a storm
the murmur is unceasing
A voice raises: War?
We murmur hatred
We murmur war
We murmur truce
We hate, they hate
Us and them whisper
We can go nuclear
even as millions starve
millions remain pot holed
A constant murmur deadens me into
a rat hole.