uglier than sin

this chaos within

a sound is it a dwoombbb? it pulls you in
but we know nothing ends like this, with silence.

A spot a line a dash a spotted hazy spinning forward spiral
into darker fogs rubbish regurgitated and laid out on your mat
lines drawn and pushed aside horrorstruck watch this fall inside

not really anything right now really, not as ugly as I would have imagined. just a push.
an impetus, a sickness to the stomach and an ostrich like forgetting.
A thumb snagged on jagged nails, a floor curtain falling into rice beans
a fire ritual shootout
bank heist in broad daylight.

the end the end, this is it here then
the spring fever madness began too soon
an agoraphobia grips me and now. wait. you
wait to watch, leave and forget. because this hill you have climbed is done and now
the fall has begun.

don't

sleep with your socks on! Ma always said. I don't care how cold you are. The thigh-length argyle socks, the red football socks, the pink spotted striped socks, the fur-lines plastic-dotted socks, the airline freebie socks even the yellowing school rejects would be tossed by my bed on wheels. Toes need to breathe. Toes need to think. And we can not think when our toes are gasping, gasping for air.
So partake of the bain-froid, the coldbath. Do not burn yourself to stay warm, instead freeze your extremities because your nose will redden and the hairs on your arms will not be enough to trap heat. So then wait and watch. Maybe sing a song. Sure enough a rabbit will come along, and your poacher ears and blackened heart will prick up and thump. Those long ears flapping. The wrongly reposed faith/ faitaccompli. I chose to squat here so you should climb your gate. The gate must be crossed, just as Akira scratches her tail. slowly, methodically, without the thought of animosity.

17.01/ static electricity

A collision of bones then?. we stop to look at the fire, our skin expands and melts into one another. and no, I don't really think of any of this, neither molten brown skin nor my cold nose streaked with this.. like those lined in my sleep. i think its ash. or just delusions of empires, monkeys and cats line up in my sleep marching in time to this operatic sound dawoomoomoom.

my shawl crackles and sparks. this is who we are, static sparks. going going nowhere coming from nowhere, just jumping off our electric clothes into the dry air.

But it is nice a scrunche-dup nose to laugh into

also a circus. circuses are nice.

A newer year

smells of? 

new bangles?

crispy paranthas/souring malai 

maroon fingernails

cold

 baths.

old people

new people

a peeling  nose 

same stories, some stories

daring to plan hoping it won't explode

another loss to screeching tires

old whispers rehashed

Another nil factor, revisited 

(this must stop)

tolerance

tears at the newspaper

videochat tits on parade

sickness in my stomach

children covered in rubble who are you and why 

are you in my house?

I live here.

no you don'

t

A newer year means