Blued

 

The blue walls remember

making love, made

with a cab waiting below,

and the crow who caws

whenever two strangers thus mate

on this bed misses this show

because the fishermen

return from the blue ocean, and

on their brine, wet wood

lie silver still half alive.

The freshness of a goodbye tingles strangely.

On an live wire run two blind mice.

The blue remembers not

when this town was built

or with what amount of love and necessity.  

Blue doesn’t know what blue is.

 

 

 

Kushal Poddar
Illustration Nick Victor

Authored ‘The Circus Came To My Island’, ‘A Place For Your Ghost AnimalsUnderstanding The Neighborhood’, ‘Scratches Within’, ‘Kleptomaniac’s Book of Unoriginal Poems’, ‘Eternity Restoration Project- Selected and New Poems’ and now ‘Herding My Thoughts To The Slaughterhouse-A Prequel’ (Alien Buddha Press)


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