By: Sasheera Mehrani Gounden

Insipid palate of the moon
For celestial lunar lips to part and reveal the tongue of Neptune
The intrusive starling of star,
Beckons beyond the windowsill
Pygmy pristine limp fish cling to fishing rods
Like sticky pegged corpses paraded on a line among obscene knickers

Fishnets propitiated with mounds of starred scarred people
Dead bone and ash,
The sonderkommando too
The air suffocated in Zyklon B

Cream peaches burnt in wailing snow
Helpless,
within the ovens from Dachau of hell