“These days everyone is writing their final book,” Bonney notes in Our Death (Commune Editions, 2019), published just a month before he died. The ANNEX 1.0 commensurate with the fevered, queasy, anxious, often tedious nature of the current global mood. The boor world is filled with more masks than human faces. Carnal mortals now wear the mask that grins and lies, Where it hides the cheeks and it’s shaded eyes. The debt is paid to human guilt, With torn hearts faking smile and mouth with myriad subtleties. How the world is over-wise in counting all our tears and sighs! Nay, let them only see the adequate, while the lummox wears the mask. People today smile, But, the cries, from tortured souls arise to Christ. People today sing, But, the clay beneath is so vile, that the feet run down against the mile. So let’s play the right cards in the game of life. Underneath the luminous stars on the black c
Awninged Arcade of Verses by Sambit Kumar Maharana