Sunday, April 29, 2007


My window opens
to the back of a garrage
where guards make water

at times show their dick
to the maid in my kitchen:
they care for none

how can I complain
if boys and girls make love
in the bush between

the children's park and
my backyard? they are distanced
by a barbed wire fence


Sunday, April 15, 2007



It’s still linked but I don’t understand

or don’t want to understand because

I am too much with me and worry

about her dying libido and my

own shrinking sex amidst salsa chill

Bihu fever, Vishu rituals

ringing emptiness day and night shake

the age-wrapped youth for single-edge play

in forked flame carve image of heaven

to challenge the jealous God undo

sins of races flowing in my blood:

I love Him through the bodies He made

but they don’t understand redemption

in churning and parting of the sea

they don’t rejoice the flames of henna

on her palms nor let the lily bloom

in the valleys use the clefts and cliffs

to deface beauty and spike voices

don’t condemn me if I am not white

the water still flows in my river