At the Doctor’s


If you must know

This clinic

Is eyesore white

A failing attempt to prove cleanliness

And a single crack 

Weaves its way 

Along the wall
The only colour in the room

Is a blazing red

And ironically

It screams out in pain

At the merest contact

Of a tush

Your weight ain’t no indication

Of its agony
I might as well be a palmist

For the lines on its rubbery surface

Reveal an unwell life

Advertisements

Allow my shoulders to hunch

 Allow my shoulders to hunch
For the world weighs too much
And they’ll scoff,
Try to quantify
As if worries
Can be put on a to scale
And attached to digits
Worth more than all our beings combined
Could ever hope to accomplish

She can use my shoulder
for streams
that never knew how to stop flowing
and yet, they’ll try to box them up
Follow along the bank
to the source
only to misdiagnose
Based on a truth only they believe

Still these bones will carry on
Creaking and groaning and hurting
and her head will sway like a pendulum
not knowing when or how to stop
till a hand
Can support
Based not on what he knows
Rather what he comes to understand
When eyes appear hollow
And the face alight.

How to make the perfect night sky

Drop the sun in velvet, so thick
Stir till no gold remains
The black should be inky, murky, cold
Toss in the moon
Mix in slumber, to taste
Sprinkle in dreams and wishes and hopes
To your heart’s content
Puree different lullabies, add
Slice up navigation charts and myths
And drop in
Stir counterclockwise-
Anticlockwise,
Till only a kaleidoscope remains

Pour out and serve
But don’t forget to garnish with the stars

I swear, the night tastes different to each.