Forwarding Address Unknown

Newspapers, I imagine, accretes up
on the red stairs. Perhaps I indulged in
forgetting to notify the paperboy
about the shifting. No forwarding address.
Sometimes I regret not changing my phone number.
Missed the call of the oblivion. Blinks and dots
of the unread messages remain undead.
This, I hate about the change, neither the newspapers
nor the messages; this, I hate, the new becomes reality,
not just a possibility. Sometimes I pick up the key
to the old house and use it on the new closet.
The day it will do the trick, open the door others’ll close.




Kushal Poddar
Illustration Nick Victor

Kushal Poddar lives in Kolkata, India
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