Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
Her blink traps all a cry caught
In her throat curtains the ruins
Behind her imperfect beauty her mind
Perfectly balanced tracks your movements
She loves silver waterfalls dropping into steely pools
Smog-free air ringing with well-being
She drops a social class or two in perfect pitch
A wall of cloud and tipping metal topples
Close up she’s just dust a fusty form or
Anti-form skimpiness raised to the power
Of unlaced plumage it rustles on her head
She smiles abstractly at whatever distracts from
Her power of display her gown hangs lose
As supposition enfleshes her shoulder
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