A vein and an artery
of the AC machine
seats when flies the finch.
The hot wind your fortress
adds to the gully summer!
The dwarf houses! The secret
of owning the street tap
before others arrive!
The swings of the red pipe, blue pipe!
On the cornice gleam
the contraceptive pills
you threw away on the Mother’s Day night.
Far below, city grows
with tin shades, tanned boys
arrowing the venus of the dusk.
From the bay, a cyclone says,
” I’m inevitable.”
So are the finches. So are the finches
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)
Love the immediacy and truth of this … “and so are the finches.”
Comment by june luvisi on 8 June, 2019 at 12:40 pmYour poem has a ring of decision to it but also a nod to fate, ” I’m inevitable.”
Comment by Annie Brodrick on 8 June, 2019 at 5:44 pm