whr art thou narasoma?
i hv seen the sacred flies fly
into the mouth of a rotting elephant.
i hv seen the blood red slick earth.
i hv seen
the world come to an end.
i am tired. i hv stopped fixing the wirus on my skirt. my hair falls in ropes about my face.
whr is yr headgear of pure gold? yr arrows of burnished wood? yr five-o-clock shadow?
no birds sing.
vultures fly in circles.
dharma is happy, i know.
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“>he wdve shaved u himself if he knew
vishnu had long gotten sick of u.