AMINU MAHMUD Two Poems
11. WITHOUT-A-TITLE (After Anton Chekhov)
A chapter's flung open like sprays of leaves to light wrung out of time without a title.
Chekhov's characters walked the road with fear filtered into slates of silence.
And with rosary prayer was funneled into quivering lips with intensity...
each word inducted into intimacy with their hearts struck small hours... they lacked faith.
They dreamt of curvaceous earthlings shuffled into poles and casinos outcropped by eyes clapping for the fondest moment of pleasure.
They imagined wonders of yonder envisioned lost souls locked in lust...
And they hoped not to return back empty handed so they walked the road
neither for salvation nor redemption but for aphrodisiac to excite their hearts.
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