a poem from teenage

Staring at my name tag.

perplexed

brows furrowed like childish scrawls

wondering

how will I ever learn how to spell

my own name.

Recess.

on stakeout duty

nestled in the shadow of the stony slide.

watching

for the bandit pilfering water

from my Pokemon bottle.

Pedalling intently.

past a scraggly puppy

whose forlorn eyes bore in

like a pencil through a milky eraser

dragging my conscience back

Parle G biscuits in tow

Amma’s grudging acceptance

seen in used ice cream boxes

filled with lukewarm milk.

In the car.

mustachioed Vīrabhadra

mighty Shaivist warrior

helms the wheel

unaware that Diabetes

has begun to eclipse his eyes.

The swan song of childhood

started with

a crunch.

Rubber

roll -

  • ing

over

bone.

The unnamed are not the unmourned. May your spirit live on Puppy.

A.S.K

First published on Runs and Tumbles.