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Poems

Volume 1 | Issue 1 | March 2006 | 








Advice to an upwardly mobile man
Meena Kandasamy
 

At a busy traffic jam,
our car comes to a crawling stop.
Seconds later,
a street child comes
in tattered clothes
and sun-kissed matted hair,
and, as usual, she begs.
“Urchin, Get Away”
my boyfriend screams
and rolls up
the car windows.
We get started.
On the way, I summon
enchanting powers
that a love affair gives me.
I lean close to him
and whisper:
(in a traffic signal voice)
“Darling,
Stop.
Look Back.
Reach Out.”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 
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