Turmeric My mother is a shade of cinnamon,probably less brittle. She wears bangles —white, red…

There are more stars, youused to say, thanall the rice in your aluminiumtub. On my…

Saffron An avid reader of the Punjab Kesari, my fatheruses the toilet longer than any…

First Person I’m sure I initially saw you, the mandrill,in a children’s illustrated photographic book…

August Twenty-Twenty This has been the longest not-August,the unwieldy-est still-March, my windows fogged with tomorrow’s…

touchscream diwali outside, & names smoke on my tonguewith the taste of burning diyas /…

* We wonder what the moth wonderswhen she flutters to the lone,warm bulb that stuttersin…

The Shape of the Known Universe (To preserve the format of the poem, we have…