When the Extinguished Sun goes to Sleep

When the extinguished sun goes to sleep
He spills his colourful semen on the touch screen sky
He still dreams of the harvest he has to reap

Syllables once erect and taut are now in a heap
The wet phrases that lubricated once are now dry
When the extinguished sun goes to sleep

Now the sleeping bats no longer leap
Sun has scribbled his will on the blog and is ready to die
He still dreams of the harvest he has to reap

Moon fakes her orgasm and pretends to weep
Stars pretend to be aroused in the pornographic sky
When the extinguished sun goes to sleep

The sun is the shepherd who likes to slaughter his sheep
The sheep yields to his digital knife without asking why
He still dreams of the harvest he has to reap

Mountains refuse to be tall and oceans refuse to be deep
The liquid crystal monitor refuses to be my sky
When the extinguished sun goes to sleep
He still dreams of the harvest he has to reap

Sachin Ketkar
4 Sept 2010