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The three holy wounds of Ranju Mamachan.
Where a once militant atheist bends his knee to religious experience In the four years that I lived inside my college, my soul was broken and remade and then broken again. I left it behind twelve years ago. It is funny that in all that time I have never known how to describe it. Don’t…
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A pneumatic emergency braking system
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Eldritch Horror
He told me that he had seen Sonia Greene, who had been Lovecraft’s wife, when she came to New York, in 1945, to shop around an idea for a book called The Private Life of H.P. Lovecraft. She had somehow just learned that Lovecraft was dead, and in the freshness of her grief, she was…
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In the end, it’s all a question of history
Several centuries before Christ, the Etruscans buried their dead between walls that sang to the joy of life. In 1966 Graciela and I went into the Etruscan tombs and saw the paintings. There were lovers enjoying one another in all positions, people eating and drinking, scenes of music and celebration. I had been trained for…
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Some coffins are superior.
My friend promised me, before killing me, that my coffin was going to be the coziest ever built by human hands. I mean, he should know. They were his hands that built the coffin. It was about nine years of hard strenuous work. A decade. Imagine that. He hadn’t even known he had been building…
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A thing that can fly will always fly.
1. Chuck Yeager, the first man to break the sound barrier, had always known how to fly. At the age of twenty, two years after enlisting for Army Air Force, he shot down two German fighter aircrafts. Shot down over enemy territory on his ninth mission, he travelled from France through Spain back into England,…
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The small town I was born in
A poem 1. This small piece-of-shit town, By a succession of legislative decrees, Is now to be the ruin of an empire, only historians know the name of. 2. The eastern walls of the government ward, Where my mother gave birth to me, Practically unassisted, Had actually been disembarkation points For the Mughal rappelers. 3.…
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The Indian Book of the Dead and the Living
Deadfish floating on the Ganga are a statistic. It’s as if they were only ever loved, if ever, by the person tallying their numbers in the excel file. Now we know Nietzsche was right. The sacred can indeed die. Now we know that even the Himalayas can sink back into the earth and everything can…
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I am so afraid of death
1. I am so afraid of death, I fear being dead. 2. In a small coffin, I am ready to spend an eternity, quiet and still, legs bent uncomfortably, 6 feet under the ground. 3. But I make no promises about my fear of death. 4. It will wait on my grave, with bated breath,…
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Humanity is bad for the planet
Humanity is bad for the planet, Like I am bad for my body. Someone in a three-piece suit is always available to explain to us why the high tonnage of leaking nuclear waste is actually a good thing for humanity. Benzodiazepine helps me go to sleep. So STFU and stick that needle right in my…
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GULLY,
A poem 1. The street, I am talking about, does not show up on Google Maps. 2. The big highways like big businesses, Are saved by yearly bailouts, And greasy wads of bills being slid into pockets. 3. In contrast, my street is filed in the government records As “too small to succeed,” And in…
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