Karma repair procedure

A woman is holding
a live chicken in her lap.
She’s fanning it with a piece of yellowish newspaper.
Down below Vrulja is seething with greasy spots.
The Imotski postal service bus
a slippery mogul, an octopus caught up in the noon’s net
coughs up digested smoke.
At the invisible place
on the back side of the rear-view mirror
the swollen river rising up, torches
approaching corpses, some other
long forgotten body
dissipates in the warm
ashes of Benares.