Poetry

  Photos by Mahesh Balasubramanian . 1. Jai Mahal will it too vanish like the last bird of evening   2. sitting outside one's door . . . known as sitting meditation  3. we will be as birds...

      was there something in the room with the elephant?                     as deep as the night would...

    Focal Seizures These small smells that last a few seconds little signals signposts whiffs of the trail he’s picking up on the narrative thread lost trailhead * A warrior forages wild mushrooms Peels,...

   Karma Queerly odd, he was to some and clearly odd to others, and to the one he loved best a contrary or a squirrel, no less. To himself, he...

  Gabriel Rosenstock’s Tanka Series – 10 * 1. to the very end learning the grammar of love my only duty             examine me, i’m ready  ...

    So I shot Myself in The Face I went to the garden and it didn’t go so well,         So I shot Myself...

    The End Look, my father the road is becoming shorter there is no sense that will change what is coming! That's why I'm preparing a nice note...

  These are the latest in a series of poems about a tough, and smart, sometimes acerbic old lady, Mrs. Podolski, all monologues addressed to...

    Countable How many sunsets have you let pass without watching, by yourself, the sun sink? How many rooms have you stood in, hour after hour, facing different...

  Dublin Is HereCold, October Saturdays and endless Grey, what if it, was all, an illusion, To begin with, anyway? Oh Glorious, Dublin’s a way and a DNA! Dublin,...