Afternoon

The Bathroom
In the bathroom,
The plastic bucket stares red,
The white walls walk bare,
This naked bar of soap,
Wants to forever live there.

Termite afternoon
They look like carpenters,
In the wood work,
So in love,
With changing,
My room.

Perspective
The red path under the forest flame,
Is where the goat died,
Ants had a feast,
I just wished I had my camera.

 Sand
There is sand everywhere,
It crawls north from the banks,
Of a once dead river,
Settling in the mango grove,
Like refugees.

Evening

Perspective
The red path under the forest flame,
Is where the goat died,
Ants had a feast,
I just wished I had my camera.

Chondona di
Her skin can paint this mud,
Her feet can wear this land,
Down to its bones,
Where she keeps her laughter.

Sentry
I am drawing the branches of the great tree,
I see it in seasons, around its ripe seeds,
Wanting its roots to let it be,
Hoping the summer will be kind to the birds,
I feel the forest in its trunk,
Moving with the clouds,
As dogs spend their afternoons,
Picking fights under its leaves.

Santhal
If they had lived here,
Before it didn’t become so cheap,
To hire,
They might have walked over this house,
Wearing the same leaves,
We sell them today.

Night

Cycles
They carried him on shoulders,
Women followed in tears,
The ducks crowded the road,
And discussed where to get snails

Escape
This bed-sheet is an ocean of sweat,
I have been drowning in it for weeks,
Looking for the dry bits,
That doesn’t remind me of myself.

Farms
See the rice land flooded dry,
Its arteries running full,
And then collapsing.

Foreshore Rd.
Goddess on assback,|
Near the old river,
Under the blue god tree,
Where orphans wash their clothes.