the blueshift journal

Postcard from paranoia

 

I saw a man down on his knees               grating smut off a calf’s                

hooves to bathe the small         thumps in turmeric             water

his forehead           waxed from harbouring         reek      his wife

bunched her skirt between her thighs         set a coconut ablaze

the excited husk          circled the sombre             head of mother

cow    how does one decide what to bless and what            to set       

fire to?

 

Postcard from anxiety

 

M pulled up her trousers              to show me the fat segment of

snake                  bite across her leg; rock-salt                 warped in

membrane. I rub two twigs              together over the wound and it

dries up               I swear her                   eyes are spiked grey from        

incantation.

 

Postcard from the body

 

I don’t know what to                       pour my breasts into anymore      

the sky here                  is wet with reasons           the river churns

with kids in the afternoon       when their gaunt backs         curve          

into shimmer          the hair on their forearms          slackens to a

fleece       wish u were here

 

Postcard from guilt

 

Every morning a bulb                             of dawn pushes through a

woodpecker’s torn                          wing     one beam sliced for me           

the other               for a wasp fed               moon    waning into my

pungent mouth          today  somebody  showed  me  a  close-up           

image of the moon       I called it                   ugly and immediately

felt apologetic         (close-up image of moon is attached)