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The Funeral Of An Animal
The funeral made me sink into an animal,
The room felt comfortable, more so than one’s mind.
I stare at the camera working my sleep
And sight became pleasure in the snivelling months.
You add a holy symbol to the deathly months and years,
A stuffed dog or cat betrays me further than this.
Alone and magnified by the sun of hard work,
Fibres in the organs of right stoop into oblivion.
After this cooking pleasure, the wine-cups are filled
To make the flames too wide for the animals.
poem
by
Naveed Akram
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