Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
Incendiary skylines have nothing on neon
Stop here for once: near the screened rumors, the warmed one I was
last night’s icon
Nameless, not to be ersatz by heart, not to be brainless as bylines on snow-smothered
sidewalks, or worsted all wrong from the start
Infrared, tell them my crimes in the language of MRI dubstep, the car
in the noir who created this variant
The collision I forgot became what I’m not in a few verses from Dante, seven
sins against hopscotch
Informants and snitches plants truths in other mouths to sort out
from white-lying a little
I salute their bold sirens and skidmarks, the adventures of metric accountability,
the incendiary horizon of desires
In Dante, longing never ends on the lip of a shoreline
It has wings in its head
airlines for eyes
Excerpted from 43 Infra-noir objects