It’s strange watching this woman,
my grandmother of the hunched back,
chinaware bones and narrowing shoulders,
this renegade who can count
one more generation she has married off
for every fold in her saree.

All her expertise of life, death, … more »

Watch over the ginger boiling in the kitchen,
your epiglottal bile, the regurgitating sink,
the revolutionary protests of pipes. 
Free fall into slaloming sleep, navigate
the mutilated men and mutinying bodies,
the expanding violence in your armour.

Dry heave over more »