The dire landscape of a no man’s land
Where the macaques make busy jumps
From tree to tree. Palmyra grow
Like pillars with canopy. An intersection
Of ethnicities, where a little excavation
Will unfold bones pealed of flesh.
War is just a cannibal; it is famished
Of loathe and bites the very flesh that searches for a banquet
Of corpses. The hyenas have no pride
Nor does the vulture. Nor does a history
That counts absent heartbeats
On excavation sites. Time is only a victim
Of acrimony, of the sheer parsimony
Of love. Still they make Palmyra jaggery
And paint their faces with brown moons
Which turn to a cold indifferent blue
Like cyanide painted tongues.


Author: meandererworld (Dilantha Gunawardana)

Dr Dilantha Gunawardana is a molecular biologist who graduated from the University of Melbourne. He moonlights as a poet. His poems have been accepted/published in Forage, American Journal of Poetry, Kitaab, Eastlit and Ravens Perch. He mixes science with poetry for a living, when what matters is the expression of both DNA and words into something serendipitous. Although an Australian citizen, Dilantha is domiciled in Sri Lanka, his country of birth.

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