//a mug hung around their necks like the curse of Ashwaththama//

An overturned anda-bhurji cart of a hawker during a riot.She who had borrowed money to…

The Birth

It was February when we wheeled my sister into the hospital, her eyes shut close…

A Crow Named Black

Aww! Sweet! That’s my boy. Kill. Kill. Kill…No, no, no… it’s pecking his eyes out……

On Language

To play a sound recording of the poem (recommended), click here. * Over a cup…

Call From Kyoto

When the phone doesn’t stop ringing,I excuse myself from the meeting room;watch the rain create…