Lifting Visqueen veils spread over little darlings,
selecting seedlings to set each predawn rise.
We coffeed up, chewed rumors, shared ourselves
wherever needed without a hint of roundworm
belly, malathion burn, or pay bounce still to come.
Not the circus of constellations
rifled with shooting stars
from nights we slept by the river.
Winner of the 2023 DISQUIET Prize for Poetry
I’ve been negotiating my fears with speaking.
After a life of being half-heard;
after half a life of being unheard, I now think of the chaos
I avoided in this abstinence. In some stories Jesus
is not the fool, keeping himself
to himself, knowing only God knows
Cat in the window
examines the snowflakes that float—
marks of art in the winter dark
It’s a Christmas Eve in my homeland
the things to come
waiting to be unwrapped
“By the sweat of your brow
you will eat your food
until you return to the ground,
since from it you were taken;
for dust you are
and to dust you will return.”
Genesis 3:19
i.
In many ways we knew we had no choice.
We woke in time to tell the stars goodnight,
Returned to broken homes and heard the fights.
after Jamaica Kincaid
be honest with your psychiatrist about how the meds have kept you from cumming:
even while fantasizing about Priyanka Chopra—her cascading curls,
tumbling down her shoulders; don’t feel ashamed after your lover has suggested
other ways to be intimate: like learning how to speak Urdu so that on sleepless nights
you can recite Ghalib’s ghazals to her while holding hands near the mango tree;
on the rare chance you’re not awake, smash the snooze button;
continue dreaming about a world where you don’t perceive that therapy
is just for white folks; forget what your family says; you can’t shake off suicidal
By AMAR MITRA
Translated by ANISH GUPTA
ONE
Ask Kartik. He will show you.
Ask Kartik how Hrithik Roshan, the film star, sings, how he walks, and Kartik, the neighbourhood tailor, will show you how he sings and how he walks.
Ask him to show you how superstar Shah Rukh Khan proposes to matinee queen Kajol, when and how he delivers those romantic dialogues, and Kartik’s imitation of Khan will make your jaw drop.
There is no time to complain,
only time to move as fast as you can
through the rows of low-lying shrubs,
the tall stalks.
The people of the fields leave
the complaining to the rest of us,
driving by on our way to work,
school,
the gym.
Chrome glinted
sunrise, bumpers, rear views.
Backside of cars parked full of sleep
just an hour past.
I went so deeply into the dream,
it might have been a different future.
La vita nuova seeded in an old frame.
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