Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
He becomes something he swears is not an excuse. A suit, under which he reveals he is nothing. Reader, this is becoming a problem: He is everything except a husband and all I want is to finish putting away the dishes, to finish something before he swears it is not an excuse. Because he is a collocation, a bundle of words that come off of my tongue and enter a mirror. This and that and his head becomes a metaphor—something like helium filling an empty space. The way he looks back over his shoulder and ascends toward the clouds. How I am left with a pin, pricking nothing but my hand. He is a conversation I know like a waning crescent, the way it slips slimming toward something hidden but still maybe true.
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