Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
However it happened it had to
on Candlemas, when candles lit
the glass all down the night avenue
where I for so long dissolving sought
a passport photo sort of identity to becalm
the sense of drift over fist, some alarm;
the booth cracked to take my image in.
Spit out fluency of selfhood, when swallowing
purification of the mother. Christ, a child
bled for ceremony so soon after Christmas.
A wick’s spatter approximates bloodletting.
All good is done despite what else we do.
To calorie count the evil, you’re over
your daily limit: as each knows truly
in their bed and when passing a hand through
the gap in his chest: the air huffing in over out.
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