The Chase

Overdosed on routine and monotony
WhatsApp bloated, and so do me on benzo
the tv channel and the empty glass on the table
compete, I float in the astral.

Alka observes all around, not taking anything in.
I am just observing as overfilled by the day.

Someone said, a leopard, but I let him pass.
Now the leopard anxious for I unloaded on him —
the numbers declining in the Serengeti.
The leopard disappears into the day lest
he becomes the highlight tomorrow.

The floating clouds are light and free.
Where did the bright moon go?
Did the leopard take him along?
And I will meet both in the day.
Morning arrives. I am in my bath.
I scrub the leopard spots off me.
Lest anxiety and tech stalk, or
the leopard returns to unload.
But I could not wash the totem of the night.
I conceal the nightly experience and
whale into the day in search of the moon
to refine the poem.