Poem in Which The Panic Is Obvious

I’m flaking formally
gutterballs and backmares
edging slowly towards the moon
medusa legged with rupture
I thought you would be happy about:
coma diamonds
my glad rags already ripped
waiting for a loveless dish
to flutter me in the butter
kaleidoscope days
internet rhythmed
the slapped seal of crisis?
medicine and crimes against ourselves?
panic is obvious
the volume is broken
I can’t keep it up
the candle hot talk
and salt sessions
we can’t all be trendsetters
I’m wobbly in liquid
I’ll entice then behave
a witchy mouth
causing a stormquake
& at the end of the day
it always happens when
you least expect it

Nisha Bhakoo

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