Undelivered Package

There is an uprising coming
it was supposed to be here yesterday
but I suppose it is lost in the mail

who do I write to

the website had no address
only a small warning
goods once sold can not be returned

maybe I should have known then
not to trust Nigerian princes
with unclaimed millions and
fully functional revolutions
leftover from the days of the next war

Maybe it is stuck at customs
maybe it would have been better
to wait for my cousin to travel in,
so he could sneak it in
packed neatly between airport toblerone

and contraband iphones

Comments

Some Other Time

We will be counting days again, till we say hello again— only for us to say goodbye again. We always knew we’d have to say our goodbyes one day. Then why does it hurt so? Even so, when we know it won’t be long before even goodbyes are a luxury. We cling to hopes— that this isn’t the only life we will live. That one day, we will meet again, in some other life, in some other time, where we won’t have to say G oodbye.

In Barely Discernible Darkness

I will trace the Jhelum Across Your back with my fingers In barely discernible darkness It will form a paisley Drawn from the memory of An imagined Kashmir No language spoken by Man or Gods shall be Uttered that night Words will be melded, Sentences molded to form A new language of love The ink, a fine powdered Amethyst, shall dry as We write its grammar The quill tips, fashioned From old bones, shall Burn in its blaze The room will be Full of scorch marks In barely discernible darkness -- Tz

Tasenda

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