The car breaks down right
in front of the house, between
the lawn and the portico.
Not here! My father’s curses
borrows the noise of a kettle.
My mother looks at the balcony
and tries to see if any of her kin
standing there. This negates
today as the day she may introduce
my father to her family.
Today metamorphoses into tonight.
Millions of sperms of light spawn
in the dark. A bird who mimics human
words echoes its existence in a cage
somewhere in the edifice. Another
flies by the car, drops bombs of shrieks.
My father thinks of his needs. He thinks
about a new car, wants this one to disappear.
.
Kushal Poddar
Picture Nick Victor
Kushal Poddar lives in Kolkata, India
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Author Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/KushalTheWriter/
Twitter- https://twitter.com/Kushalpoe
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