Dusty pages, yellow
with lived lies
Mellow with conqueror's highs.
Eyes peer, age knighted,
Presbyopia for utopia
Of empire blighted.
Remembered tomes
dismembered
Return from tombs
to haunt and taunt.
Is the price too high
For your nostalgia?
Another's nausea?
Savour the flavour
Of book and curry,
Page turns,
You're back...
Passage to India
Burns.
YOU ARE READING
𝓟oems 𝓟rismatic
Poetry''sketches that shape-shift the angle and the curve'' (line from the poem 'Contrast) Recent/new poems tend to be at the beginning of the book.
