Satya Dash

The Balcony as Springtime Theatre

I fall in love while pacing
on a balcony miles away from the object
of desire an exact sequence of irredeemable thoughts
from a nodal sequence of events non-linear vine
of thick vein coupled sequence whips in me a swirl
astrological: a mole above my right nipple my right nipple my right
tell me what about piety doesn’t girdle you where’s the trepidation
my dear a superstar actress once leaned too hard on a brittle
balustrade and for weeks the marble balcony remained a famed
plane of speculation nation debating
the mechanics of a luminous body’s free fall my friend too who liked
getting high on the balcony started praying there in the awe
of secret privilege I once heard him saying I love you so much

in the providential way one furtively hears another talk to themselves
like an earnest parrot it’s spring and in the balcony’s
airspace mosquitoes hover like jets that lost their way seeking vitamins
in blood tracking the summery flutter of colors
it’s spring and a monkey leaves a pool of glazed piss plays with a ceramic
ashtray lumen of audacity strewn all over the balcony some mess-
iah’s spray painted mural how could I tell him this wasn’t the place
to do such a thing when I myself indulge in the outlandish here
it’s spring I scurry inside he leaps to the balcony above I disinfect
and wipe the clarity one animal awards another is termed atmosphere
maybe it’s love I talk about in heat maybe heat is a hypnotic thing
it’s spring shut doors won’t tell you in promise not paradise on balcony
springs forthright (come and sing?) this broken ballad of blighted light