Saturday, December 1, 2007

Ashok Niyogi


REALLY?

we went through this
as mountains
go through rivers
which go away
on tourist boats
that don’t have to
bring in fish
on a wish that
flying foxes won’t
get drunk like skunk
and this baby lily
will bloom in gloom
this autumn
I will buy handloom
fabric from the rabbit farm
to keep your arthritis warm
bees swarm
even here the sun is born
and grows
flows between rivers mountains
boats fish wish
drunk skunk
interrupt
what can be momentous
on route 680
another car dealer
calling you “Madame”
another small Mexican girl
selling burritos
your ice-cream has melted
do you want another one


THEN

Watermelons
Caught
Taught
Taut
In her brassiere
Fraught
With droplets
Sweat
Between eyebrows
That hide eyes
Lies
Which sag
Groans
That could be pain
Again
Moist
Smells that shriek
Knees that will talk
To arthritis
Breathing short
And hard
In the ‘English’ rain


HER GOA

barges carry ore
no more
what does an ocean care
about lighthouses
that now jail pedophiles
in this land
plankton get together
to gobble up shark
and crabs mutate
into a butter fried mess
gypsy girls
have runaway breasts
and improbable accents
they come
with beads for sale
beached and fossilized
is the whale
rusted the cannon
staring out
at river meeting sea
the plumber
still bids me a colonial ‘adios’
he is old school
experiments saunter
out of closets
in the vegetable market
aubergines are drooping wet
the goddess struggles
with cheap plane tickets
sweeper women talk
prawn scales into mobile phones
the pavement is mossy wet
you will have to be guided
by my elbow
even as you gingerly
tread the wharf
to fish for whatever it is
that you wish


OUTSIDE THE KRISHNA TEMPLE
WITH A TEXAN DEVOTEE


doughty cow
dusty red road
afternoon sleep
sagging rope cot
fallen autumn leaves
rot
a bucket of
left over
rain water
to cleanse
a miniature udder
thin wind shudders
tamarind trees are
taut
leave some sweat
for the new calf
please
camp followers
thread garlands
with small flowers
purple patch and
pious pink virgin
knot
like clouds loaf
about a done sun
lord at play
cymbals clash
fervent call
the despair
of compressed air
beneath a canopy
of wire mesh
in which
monkey paws are
caught
you missed
an orgasm
in return
for nothing
now pregnant with
clarified butter
on cotton wicks
with devotion
dazzling light
with blindness
fraught
thin mongrel licks
blistered bare feet
black smoke
from bullying lamps
lord revels
in stifling smell
of too much incense
and buffalo musk
to entice again
to tease a
lot
run away
from all that contradicts
all that is new
from the darker side
of the enticing moon
the lord was born
in a tempest
on a moonless night
hold tight this
is the realization you
sought


WIFE ON COLVA* BEACH

backwaters paddle up to say
“stay
white church
let the barge
sing the dirge”
this urge
to emphasize
crab like faith
that claws
“dragon paws
overawed
by laws
that fish
within wrecks”
catechism between
two coconut palms
tired of pointing out to sea
weeds wash sins
fin wins
“you walk through foam
ankles sanctified
by salt
that has materialized
in the sun”
this sea wells up in you
and ebbs
moons are highlights
for your swept hair
and fair
is the uncanny rise
and fall
of your surprised breasts

• the king of beaches in Goa, India, on the Arabian Sea,
miles long, yellowish white sand, relatively deserted in August.

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