Poetry Mia Ayumi Malhotra — April 30, 2012 12:58 — 1 Comment
Garden Song – Mia Ayumi Malhotra
Knives. Your children are coming to dinner
all clamor and grab, faces ticking with greed
like teeth left fastened too long in the head.
Left untended, your mind’s gone maggoty,
rotted like the cold center of a plum. Hungry
in the head, rows of unpolished spoons.
They’ve hired a woman to haunt the hallway,
fetch the bone china. Left as a tribulation
when you die, the chard will run rampant.
Unhemmed, the bean rows will loosen
like old muscles in the mouth, come
undone in the garden’s thistled heart.
One Comment
Leave a Reply
What am I?
Bioluminescent eye
That sees by the shine
Of its own light. Lies
Blind me. I am the seventh human sense
And my stepchild,
Consequence;
Scientists can't find me.
Januswise I make us men;
Glamour
Was my image then—
Remind me:
The awful fall up off all fours
From the forest
To the hours…
Tick, Tock: Divine me.
-- Richard Kenney
This post Garden Song – Mia Ayumi Malhotra — The Monarch Review was a good read so I posted it on my Facebook to hopefully give you more readers. thanks. Johnny Debt