Next Prey Poem by Upul Lekamge

Neon signs flickering
the adagio soothing.
Chilly breeze tickles
the mature sensations even.
The lonely moon
unaccompanied by the starry angels,
only the dark clouds that move aimlessly.

I look into the vultures that soared
when I was so young.
‘The diamond eyes', ‘rosy lips', ‘dimpled cheeks'
‘Nightingale voice' and many more comparisons then.

Even the sound of a familiar footstep
is a solace now.

The intimacy, friendship, togetherness,
joy and laughter
all lay thrown on the tables
and galore at each moment.

Where have all the smiles, sweet voices,
the greedy looks, polite requests
and the phallic processions gone?

The feeble lamp post
at the end of the street that provides warmth
to many insects
has been the burial ground
for the same within seconds.

I, the ignored, am patiently waiting
till I meet my next-prey
to achieve another pyrrhic victory.