NIGHT OF THE STORM
C.
SUBBA RAO
The
steeple shrieked
bells of the temple shivered and shook
as the frightened gods sped out
chant and metamorphic mantra
froze in the gullet
of the shuddering brahmin
staring in lidless awe
in the deserted sanctuary
a roaring wind fiendish and fell
battered him into his private
hell
he shut his eyes in holy terror
only to confront visions of horror:
the country green caught in an epileptic fit
looking for leaves to hide its
naked shame
a bathing woman broad in the hips
bursting into mind a bloated
corpse
a fly entering her wide-open mouth
probing a sore on the swollen
lips
glistening rain-drops dripping
down her breasts
her deep navel reflecting his dazed face
twisted steel and uprooted
tree
birdless
branches looking forlorn
sharpening their lean and hungry
beaks.
Witness
and victim to elemental sabotage
blazing wrath of the ‘unchilding, unfathering’ deep
would he succeed in his search of the gods?
would he lure them back into their proper
places?