A Couch in Kali Yuga

This series was published in the Indian periodical Taj Mahal Review (Vol. 11 Number 1, June 2012). It was awarded the AZsacra International Poetry Award for Taj Mahal Review. See below.

A Couch in Kali Yuga

a city drowns in invisible wasps
I cough alone on a couch
in Kali Yuga

on the thinnest branch
a nuclear plant
for the fun of it

cuddle a baby tree
the wind is still
on Tinfoil Hill

while you're at it
you must caress and milk
the volcano

to eat the mountain
we dig out radiant tumors
from a mother's wounds

by Battery Lake
a young boy
taken over by fungus

petrol moon
I play a bone flute
among sleeping dogs

we make love to produce a rocket
on a couch in Kali Yuga
our cells are beetles

no food to speak of
porcupines, hippos, jelly-fish boiled
in milk from a stone

turning into a cactus
I give off pollen
large as houses

1 comment:

  1. Already, in my universe for one, a Taj Mahal has risen for your poetry--for lines that give back to us in juxtaposed pieces of polar opposites, our actual reality but which we keep rearranging for fear of looking unreal. I love the truth in what you perceive because it is fearless where most of us are fearful without our knowing it. I latch on to your mind and your world because I'm freed and wish to stay. Tak min vein (I hope I got this right)!