A Web of Little Truths?
By Shreya Manna
I appear to have ingested a fish, yes, a fish,
Bones and all, that is now doing star jumps
In my trachea.
(Surely that makes sense.)
Today I want to tell you about a boisterous child at the temple.
He was interrupting his mother’s prayers with his calls to her
He was, to me, an idol of reverence, sweetly irreverent.
The mind scurries like a burrowing rodent to dig up
Crystalline metal ore of delicious thought.
Cookie the stray downstairs licks herself into shape,
In some desperate attempt to clean herself
Of what I know not – is this a response to grief, a stony-eyed
“Life must go on,” or pure catness? She lost her
three first kittens only four days ago.
Couples walk hand in hand and on like clockwork
I walk as though in fog
Other stories, other beings, so close but yet so opaque
In mist, just out of true sight.
What are their stories?
What peculiar magic marks time
for new bud and new doom?