Hiraeth Series poems 26,27 from Kushal Poddar

Hiraeth Series 26-27

26

Anger sits with its piss sample.
The results displays pink.
Dream will be born
and born angry buck naked
on one bad laundry day
with the firmament greying
in one thousand minute shades.

I remember my mother died
two autumns ago on this date.
I stare at my toes while sitting
on the cold toilet seat.

Everyman can get pregnant
when the time ticks right
with the juvenile vision
to meet the deceased near
the black horizon.

27
(Inspired by a photograph of Chinki Sinha)

‘Revolution’ – someone has etched
with a screwdriver no longer
in use for its original purpose
on the body of a dilapidated bus
left to rot in the police garage,

and I sip my imbecile tea
latte and say, “Apparently
it takes a garage, not courage
to continue a revolution.”

The dust serpent hisses here.
Here this red dustbin
of a roadside stall spills its plastic guts.
The old comrade climbs up
on the bus without any wheels
and drives mad, drives blind.
The cookie I dipped falls and loses
its identity in the sea of my pale tea.

Wolfpack Contributor: Kushal Poddar

A Poetry Series by Kushal Poddar “Hiraeth Series”