Office Space

An office is a box
created by someone
with limited imagination
to contain those
with better ideas
and weaker spines. 

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Goodnight Moon


Goodnight Moon

All things sweet eventually turn bitter.
Maybe you can only truly taste sweet as a child.
What of those whose childhoods weren’t?
There’s always blessed sleep.

Sleep the sleep of a child under an eclipsed moon.

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Unfriends

Friend, I’ve lost my way to us and I am angry with you. Wasn’t it your place to guide me back when the current of life carried me away from friendship? Isn’t that a friend’s job?

Friend, I don’t know if I’m made for friendship. Everyone who has called me friend, has turned away. You’re the only one who looked back. But maybe that’s just your roving eye.

Friend, love is spelt with four letters. And it means whatever you shape it to mean.

Friend, that’s a nice word and I can’t think of anything to rhyme with it or anyone to fit it. So I’ll just turn it over and over in my mind. After all, who’s a writer’s best friend but a blank sheet of paper?

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The Terraces of Mumbai 

The Terraces of Mumbai

The terraces of Mumbai
are dusty and tile-speckled,
rising above even the highest floors.

The terraces of Mumbai
are most often visible only
through an airplane window
or a satellite feed.

The world calls us cold
and unromantic but
the terraces of Mumbai
see surreptitious lovers
meet and exchange
closeted affections.
We carry our base instincts
above our heads.

But don’t judge us for that.
The terraces of Mumbai
also carry stolen satellite transmission
and a dead body or two.

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Co-dependency Ritual

Co-dependency Ritual

Let’s knot a tie
and make conformity respectable
Let’s tie a knot
and turn bondage into ritual
Let’s finger these traps
and label them protection
Let’s trap those fingers
and call it love and affection

Happy Denial Day,
Whatever label you give it today.

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LEAK

LEAK

In between your precise words
and your regimented actions
you spilt me one look
that drowned it all.

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The Love Artist

THE LOVE ARTIST
I’ve been waiting for you
to finish loving me,
to come to the end of your love show
and move on with your brush & tools.

So now my loving can begin
as I coat your uncouth edges
in hard, shiny wax that melts
but never washes off.

Let the dust settle over it
let texture turn jagged edges into art deco,
and a blood clot into an artist signature.

PC: Own artwork

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Tips To Deal With Me

No tipping
No walking on tiptoe
No scaling the tips
No tiptop conditions
Be yourself, only at your softest.

We don’t like sharp edges here.
Except for, well, this statement.

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