Death

I think of you
surreptitiously,
as if letting off a fart
in an air-conditioned conference hall

I do think of you,
often and as freely as
taking a leak
on a respectable compound wall

patron of my faith
a false prophet or-
my illicit lover

whatever you are
I have been waiting for your call



© Rajendra Pradhan
http://rajpradhan.awardspace.com/