Home to writers & readers of provocative Prose & Poetry.
A Plunge on a Hunch
Poetry
I munched through
the milky residue
of a custard apple,
one arm up
to the ceiling
altar of a god.
Who I thought would
finally, lend a listen
as potent as
candle wax subtly
sweating down
a preaching arm.
Dew drops of
fibrous sugar
sweated down
the knuckled spine
of my fingers.
Who are you?
Where did you come from?
Do you trust me enough
or believe me
enough
to pull me out of
this swamp
bubbling with the
undercurrent of malice?
Is this me
denouncing myself?”
Matchsticks
slapped by the wind
at the first
dousing defiance
sweeping through
it’s red-buzzed
head
like a
sulphurous mane.
I planted each prayer
against wood,
Bark,
Kumquat,
music branching and
swinging like
pregnant fruit
against scratchy
regret and
now
I cleaned
the metal slate
of this kitchen
knife
and
plunged it
into this
supermarket
custard apple,
Whose gutted insides reek
In the corners
of my mouth and teeth
like milk powder
swirling
around
In a swamp of
condensed
curdled milk.
How many more matchsticks,
Candles,
hoarse throats
Evaporating in gentle naps
after nightly fights
and
nightly replays of “I Will Survive,”
till you finally build me
an origami boat
to steer me
into the air
of a different plane,
with words and
vocabulary
for pillars,
houses bricked
with literature,
cars run
with poetry
and dogs nuzzling to
human touch
and
affection of poetry
and plants watered and soiled
in poetry
and currency
dispensed on poetry?
Or does the notebook
paper canoe
float to me
only in
soggy conviction
when I’ve
wiped the
kitchen scissors
plunging pomegranates
till it’s
the candle
That the
shaky arm of the
Earth holds,
as it melts
and run down
it’s preaching arms?
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