riffing mindsense

I
Stop the eye now catching rye of
Morning in slosh of rum dust ten

Feet apart they ablute; libation
Rented cheap by the two dozen, a

Full meal, a night's peace, then
And now; alone you pick the fars

And the nears as the center grav
Itates, hovers, plumbs; depth ah

II
Justice cannot eat itself anymore
Than a poem cannibalize the riffs

Standing alone in the bazaar, hey
You, yes you! Catch the bite held

Now tight by its act of whatthefk

peeps – III

The upper bound to depth of smile
    is three fourths 
an
    untethered soul; the
    trailing fourth fodder for
    maya's sulfurous appetite.

The lower bound is the privileged unsoul uberfold.

riqqat ki kami

riqqat ki kami / shor ki hawis / faasla maddham
chaarha raqs / tapish kum Khush / daftar-e-jaana
subh faraamosh