July 1983

The day, the Kohuwala butcher was butchered By the hoards, and his cuts were left Inside the market place. When there were even no vultures To settle on the cuts, Only men who cluttered like house flies, To glimpse firsthand, how much hate There was on the edge of palms, Or on cusps of lenses…

A Monotonous Eve

A cigarette, That I bought at the supermarket, Some carrots and potatoes To make some steamed vegis And while they steam, I toy with reveries, of what my life would have been, If I had stayed on in Australia The Aussie girl that would sit On top of me, making sounds in cowgirl tongue, Which…