Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
In the month of May when the sun moves low
there is a birdless sky with an unmarked bend
in the clouds. Watch how the force undresses
you as a swarm of landing crew enter the plane
through a lozenge of light; masked and gloved,
their eyes avoiding your gaze, as the engines
fire down. Rum is in your throat, a river
in your blood. It might as well be a road of light.
All have their heat. The last heat was a woman
you lay with in a borrowed car obeying the laws
of physics as her mouth dilated to an O.