The plastic bag with your body parts
tucked in, makes a hollow face
midst the water hyacinths.
A bubble dreams of the evening.
A stork flies close in, and I shadow
my footprints back to the room,
to the numbness, to the anger,
to the coldness, to the origin.
The bedroom smells of the disinfectant.
The bedroom smells of you.
The bedroom smells of nothing.
.
Kushal Poddar
Illustration Nick Victor
Edited the online magazine ‘Words Surfacing’.
Authored ‘The Circus Came To My Island’ (Spare Change Press, Ohio), “A Place For Your Ghost Animals” (Ripple Effect Publishing, Colorado Springs), “Understanding The Neighborhood” (BRP, Australia), “Scratches Within” (Barbara Maat, Florida), “Kleptomaniac’s Book of Unoriginal Poems” (BRP, Australia) and “Eternity Restoration Project- Selected and New Poems” (Hawakal Publishers, India)
It is a slap-on-the-face poem. It gave me goosebumps. Brilliant poetry.
Comment by Pradnya on 15 May, 2019 at 11:09 am