Posted by: Shiva Nagri | 11 January, 2013

Dying in Slow Motion : 3 years at Amity

A sweeping avalanche of asphalt
of tar and coal dipped in chillums
full of crude oil
passing through the tapering tunnel
coming in and going out
coming out and going in
the same time, the same space
existing in a state of fourth dimension
Never ceasing to cease
I wake up
It’s AMITY

There are peacocks
springing forth their necks
like javelins, juggling and jostling
in directions beyond directions
and durations beyond durations.
And then there are pigs,
bogged down in their conspicuous consortiums
they just don’t care.
I sleep down
It’s AMITY.

There’s a banyan tree
throwing a delightful grin
at the brink of the dusk
blushing against the
inebriated transcendence of
the dipping sun
The floating rays pout in the mid air
The building glass, chuckles and crackles and “cheers”.
I am in an altered state of consciousness.
It is AMITY.

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