Poetry

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...

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...

Before I spoke their language as a philosopher. I assumed harsh consonants accidents. I stood in long lines at their communions. They laid hands on. I listened bent forward. I sat under their lectures, taking notes. The seemed clean, free of the stain of questions. They dressed so nicely, invited me out -- Beerhall nights where we...

Yarn I. Spread out like a tangential curve, perched on window balconies, I would stare at each abraded line of the sun The sky was my favorite thing, how if I lay horizontally, departed from the forces of gravity and the will of life, everything was united A quiet murmur would rush across the diaphragm, knots and levers humming slowly...

Midsummer i I was inside a labyrinth: A flood in front of me. The endless surge and fall of water. The deep ocean surface wavered before turned in white waves. When the waves receded, they left a little shimmer in my little eyes. At a distance, something washed ashore. A blue...

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...

On Reflection a silent tree frog clings to broken shelves of stone rippled by the breeze water colors blend and blur illusions of perfection   Beads clusters of black pearls press into the palms of clouds— a broken necklace that slips between my fingers rains upon this garden path

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...

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...

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.

universe ants working underground not understanding world beyond earth   computer magic inside god box angels wildly dancing google and amazon music   on hold commuter gridlock sea of stationary cars anxious egos idling

Language this noise binds us in peculiar ways as if it knows the frequency at which we resonate I can predict the weather by the lilt in your voice and you can pinpoint my location by the clamor on the streets. evening is when the suburb breaks down into episodes, but all I can think of is the time...