two weeks in

Incongruous is not a word here.
Incongruous is the only thing.
Every thing
sticks out
abruptly,
like a
lurching foot on an accelerator
at a GIVE WAY sign -

women in ornate and striking colours
dapple the derelict concrete buildings
and pot-holed roads
glittering in the sun alongside
the plastic-lined pavements;
jutting ribs and amputees
beg for the rupee you don't have, but
can most certainly afford - four thousand times over.
on the doorstep of Gucci and Hyundai, people
sit in gutters
tapping away at their iPhone 7
with bare feet
flat-screened televisions shine
divine light
out of brick-and-mortar bungalows, shouting
Bollywood love songs
over the sound of
women being raped
and young hushed couples
afraid to touch in public;

people push and
queue and
tutt for a spot to pray
in the temples, to
meditate in the Matrimandir...

dishonest men
point you towards honest bargains;
honest men
coax you into
dishonest favours, tips, taxes...

The locals don't speak a
word of English
and neither does the guy who's fluent

holy cows roam the streets starving to death,
desperately ingesting
last month's trash;
they're too sacred to slaughter
so we let them commit suicide instead

"Say NO to plastic" signs are dusted over
by a thick layer of smog,
dogs collapsed on their sides
look neither dead nor sleeping
and elephants are at home
in 2x3m sandpits

men hold hands on the beach and no-one blinks an eye,
but they're executed for fucking in private
and I can't get my legs out
in the 35 degree heat -
and it's winter !

on day three
we smoke a spliff
with some college students,
it costs us $6 for half a kg -
but I can't get a soy flat white
anywhere,
let alone soy...
and I can't get one at home,
for that much,
either...

if I want to buy that saree
I must also buy those tights, no
exceptions

I guess all the stares
mean we fit right in,
I'm just not sure
if it's curiosity or
contempt

"The true domain of woman
is the spiritual."

- read somewhere in Auroville.

Auroville

"It is not the old [world] transforming itself, it is a new world that is born. And we are right in the midst of this period of transition where the two are entangled.

But since a radical purge or transformation would result in the body's dissolution, the work goes on in stages, progressively.

If a total transformation of the being is the aim, a transformation of the body must be an indispensable part of it.

The heavens beyond are great and wonderful, but greater and more wonderful are the heavens within you. This should be man's unshakeable faith within himself, because God dwells in him."

- The Mother.

SQ286

all the women look achingly
immaculate, and
the rustle of
a thousand plastic packages
make me want to cry

I go to
say something
to my boyfriend
but he's plugged into a screen I
can't see,
wrestling with the cord
that plays leash to the remote control.
they give us

tiny plastic bags
filled with tiny plastic toothbrushes
and there are more plastic toothbrushes
in plastic bags
in the plastic bathroom

but the women look so achingly
beautiful; their cheeks flushed
a perfect pink
and their ritually rehearsed performance
absorbs even my eyes
- after all, I've also
paid for it.

a love poem, so wut

The architecture of you is perfect.
The peaks of you align - your shoulder and knee,
propped up on the bed
while you confess your love
of Canada's President to me
he has tattoos
and is shirtless
what a babe
he's forty-four

I love the angles of you
your shoulders square burgundy from your pretty little head
as you press ink into yourself
you were once afraid of needles methinks,
and I imagine the lures and tubes they stuck into you
- is it wrong to love you more because of it?

you remind me of myself applying make up:
the tunnel of concentration
that funnels down into your thigh
as you press your mind's eye into it
one inky puncture at a time

I love the bands wrapped around your ankle,
wrist and neck
some stories to match the scars
on your thumb and chest
and how the latter becomes red
in the heat of the shower

the way your fingers curl into your own flesh
and in
to me

the way your eyes wrinkle up when you're happy
you always seem -

and even that one time your eyes were leaking
with the aches of this world
you still were more beautiful
than anything I've ever seen
(of course I loved you more because of it)

I'm so happy sat on your floor
churning out words
for both business and pleasure
they flow in your company

will you let me grasp your skin
will you meander around strange places with me awhile

the settlement

This place is filled with echoes of you.

I wonder why the fire isn't going.
I wonder where the guitar is.
I remember to boil the water first.
I imagine the chaos if you'd done
what you said you'd wanted to.
I imagine if I'd fallen into habit, instead
       of saying no (thanks).

I imagine -

I fall into habit
       anyway,
But I insert You into the conversation.
      open, I flow,
I flow with loquacity -

This place is filled with echoes of you
I remember dropping anchor
Six-teen-times,
      I remember
being woken at 2am
to make polite conversation
with a stranger
I remember this oceanic palette,
these fabric folds of the shore
I remember
reciting
my vows to this place,
myself; these thirteen

I remember these same blisters
in the palms of my hands, like small jewels
now I hold
two sapphire shells instead

I remember walking to the end
and finding you behind me
and feeling afraid
and feeling alive all at once
(the same reason I ever do anything)

I remember these soft orange colours
over these wintery forest peaks

I remember two-fold
calls on the walkie talkie: do you
copy?

I remember the smell of you
and I wish I'd brought
your shirt as you suggested

I remember
your warmth
I remember your arms locking mine into my
body

I remember
kissing your cheek
I wonder how many people here
saw
She certainly knows.
(for the first time ever, I lied
at exactly the right moment -
or at least, I choked
just in time
on the truth)

This whole place reeks
with the smell
of you
And still I invited you in -
I allowed you both to kiss my cheek
- why do they
insist
on doing that?
after
everything?

On paper, on paper,
but we didn't see
into the water together

I've borrowed from you a-plenty
to give everything
to him.