Monday, April 27, 2015

Driving through Mumbai

Gentle twilight hour
Crows pecking garbage
Opaque art on wall
Water flowing hard
Two sparrows peck
Children cry and beg
Sick dog crawls
Auto men in rage
Construction and damage
Kite in barbed wire
Creepy baggage… Bomb?


I wanted to capture all those images and thoughts that flash in front of you as you drive in your car. Jean from my Poetry course read this poem and told me, "There is a staccato feel to your poem as if you are firing out the words using a machine gun. It creates a certain tension in the poem, and so the ending makes sense, and fits with what goes before it." Now, that was definitely not intentional but I think that is the magic to poetry. It just happens.

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