i cannot
shoot
pretty flowers
sunsets
golden dawn
rainy days
my world
is an illusion
unreal
you may say
my world is
molten lava
dripping clay
inhabited
by the living
dead who
cant find
a way
the homeless
the lepers
the untouchables
uncolored black
blackish gray
the prostitutes
of the red light area
whistling out to
passerby displaying
their withered wares
the womanly man
dressed in gaudy
clothes lurid stares
as he takes you
into a cubicle
on a creaky cot
up the stairs
i shoot pain
i shoot deformity
of body soul
spirit i shoot
street barbers
cutting air
i shoot the kumbh
religious fairs
a canopy of clustered
chaos everywhere
children urchin
threadbare
i shoot sleeping
dogs dreamers
dare..my creativity
comes from killing
bed bugs on
my body bare
i kill i swear
my bleeding blogs
is all i share ..
