Editor’s note: These poems have a visual quality not shown when viewed on a phone. The above PDF shows the form the poet intended. Landscape view on a phone or reading from a laptop are ideal.
funambulist
of part-shadow, part-ochre,
old bones tremble in sunlight
racket of non-aligned speech
God’s sake, say it aloud. M for medicate –
there’s a million goddesses for you to curse
days are darker after flashes
of flamed-out filaments
in delicate glass bulbs,
teeth in conflict with tender flesh,
feverishly searching
for right, mechanical, polite words
trauma doesn’t change with how your eyes move across the page
for Draupadi
fuck is an angry word
whiplash state
makes you squirm
a caterpillar
slithering down
your spine
an image
of violent sex
or a vagina
peddled
a dirty word
unholy sound
then, cringe
vomit projectile
washing over
your soul
a retching
of blood semen
pawned
by five men
a release
fake moan
force-forget
a princess
commoditised
your body
a property
of tissue walls
or a poet
pawed
Sree Sen is from Mumbai, India. She relocated to Ireland in 2019 to pursue an MA in Creative Writing, University College Dublin. Heavily published as a journalist in India, Sree’s creative works have appeared in Poetry Ireland Review, bath magg, Crossways and HeadStuff.