11 243 Meters, Purple Mediterranean
The airplane wings draw new summer fragrances
in the fogs they’re expected by tomorrow's smiles
like a dawn or maybe a dusk
with a calm, lazy eyes the day
can witness the providence through all the blue truths
the winds lose their hearing with the speed of a fatal...
Heirloom
When your mother raises her hand; earthy
brown, skin cracked open—
sun parched field—
iron hot temper
and hits you
the pain melts your
flesh,
bones,
marrow.
When your mother raises her hand to
strike you
the pain bites (your pet rabid dog).
She throws the foliage of her swallowed dreams—
barren land that was hers
and her mother’s
and her mother’s mother
who couldn’t...
Masscult
Elation about well-timed ascendancy
has a certain piquancy. It extends to
those not affiliated to it. When *M C
Sher’s flowing tongue capsules his
long haul his happiness is mine, tap-
ping into frozen areas of my campaign.
In rooting for this Gully Boy I begin
to rekindle my abandoned side.
*Siddhant Chaturvedi in Gully Boy, breakout...
Paradise
lonely feet on a subway train
at half past midnight
she misses paradise
where every day she would
collect a pocket full of shells
why not give her home away
for another trip to the coastline without a name
our lady train rider flashes back to the nights
where she would stumble drunkenly with
another girl who split...
Home
It was party time.
I went to a party
at a known place.
It was party time.
I went to the party
as their chief guest.
It was party time.
I went to a party
at a house
I used to live,
for some time.
Ode to a Graveyard
City of angels
tombed in silence.
A solemn stillness
is held in the air.
A hollow...
A Dream of Youth
When we meet, we’ll fly together
caressing each other
with our enthralling beak,
We’ll sing the half-elapsed song
Twitter, twitter, twitter...
We’ll territorialize the sky,
Colonise her spheres,
Our wheezing would form thunder.
We’ll bathe in the rainbow,
Suck the evening twilight,
Soar down to nestle in
the unfamiliar nest of opportunity.
We’ll mouth each other’s adventure,
Will laugh...
On the Crossroads
O’ father,
hold my fingers in your firm grip
and help me cross the road.
Suspicion
I’ve burnt myself half, fortuitously.
And deliberately, left the rest unburned.
Bike Accident
Helmet transforms into a skull.
The road runs as usual.
Insomnia
Night burns into an ashtray.
I fly to you with the wings of ashes.
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
even the violence
seems germane.
same old Wichita,
ain’t it?
bomb every
last life boat,
make the bird
on the bill
soar free above
that ancient tomb.
a camera’s just one eye
but damn
if we don’t know
how to whisk a crowd
after wrongful
frenzy.
the NRA pays less taxes than me
you won’t
find
that shrapnel
wound
in their
tax ID #.
the business
end
of muzzle
is only prelude
of holy
creation.
“be...
Apiary
My friend Sharon raises bees.
In her veil she cranks the handle
of the silver bee smoker
calming the hives.
Bearding, swarming
in the intimate harmony
in which nectar becomes honey
or beeswax candles for any altar.
Scouts return with tales of pollen.
The gilet jaunes
swirl around the point Zero
buzzing with anger at the money
the rich will spend
to...
NOSTALGIA OF A WORKNIGHT
She’s weary as an unused toy—unwrapped,
not touched. She’s not hidden but by herself
in back of a toybox, under the snapped
off arm of her last doll. She thinks a shelf
might be nice. She’d like to hear the soft click
as her nightlight went dark and slipped
into a sleep...