An Ode to Care

while poet Vishwas has a fetish for the fair Malayali sisters end night shift cold and bare but my mother prefers them, even half sedated she nods, affirming sister is a nurse gold… Continue reading →

Mother Dress Me

  into soft woollen sweaters woven from full yellow wool with sleeves that will fit me five years down time folded easy for petite hands to hole into when freezing cold if snow… Continue reading →

Oedipus at the Gallows

an infant in pain screaming, screeching till his lungs are numb but he continues on ceasing never to stop   is there no way to shut him up? soothe him, allude him denude… Continue reading →