The deepest woods bear pathways. Twinning up over “Welcome” boards; department stores stock piles of sewage stowed away from vision. Necrophiliacs and butterfly parks. Stalk-eyed train tracks. Curving alleyways; splinters of grass. Escalator stairways, glass-frosted giveaways fronting up as talismanic signboards. Run down shanty towns papered over washed laundry boards. Bags filled with yesterday’s scabs. […]
Rony Nair works as an oil and gas Risk Management consultant. He is also a professional photographer about to hold his first major exhibition and has previously been published by many magazines and periodicals.Rony has also featured in the Economic Times of India. Larkin’s’ collected poems would be the one book he would like to die with. When the poems perish. As do the thoughts!
In your town I search, not seeking visitations, of the divine Not for me the corpus of maudlin and hymen. or scores lost in meandering intent. there’s you somewhere, in the oxygen that I breathe. Somewhere in the hairclips that tie disparate strands in airy weaves and raised flags, In long ago defeat. somewhere in […]
rabbit burrows edge in and then one sniffs at anti depressants in stews of regret. holding on where nobody else can ever get through it was once all about me and you giving yourself to me.