The tarpaulin swells as if
this tent will voyage,
take us, the refugees,
to the promised land.
The sailors, some stale dead,
lying in the piss and excrement,
sing their sea song.
In the wind their voices seesaw –
“Ho ho, darkness reigns my eyes.
Darkness walks the swag.
I cry,
and my tears trickle down all black.”
A news helicopter lands
somewhere vague,
and that’s all there is to be said.
.
Kushal Poddar
Picture Nick Victor
Kushal Poddar lives in Kolkata, India
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