Satya Dash

The Insomniac tries to embrace his inconsistencies

I told no one, I came groomed primarily for you― amber
musked, clean shaven, slightly smoked in a barbecued air of flamboyance

that I traded for my brooding lotuses with a diamond merchant. He even soft-
singed me with a kiss on the temple. I remained rubbing my paper scalp.

My landlord has given me a warning today. Pay by the fifth or pay with your
morsels. I think the latter has colorful possibilities. Say nothing more. Right now,

my wallet screams ridiculousness. Hanuman airlifting a mountain
beside my passport sized pout with oversized lips. The perennial jangling

of useless coins syncopating tinned nerves in my brain. Few days back,
intoxicated on a terrace at midnight, I laughed so hard in the lap

of a new friend that we ended up crying. As commas of delirium angled
away from our pearling eyes, you should have seen― constellations

swanning about the sky, mimicking our shapes; it’s true I wished to drown
beneath a radical swell, an inconsequentiality that could perhaps

embarrass time. If I were to call it love, I’m afraid it’ll be blasphemy
again. Why be so inflicting anyway. I’ve been jogging in parks most

of this year in an effort to redeem air, to gasp mild mannered humor
into it. Time to time, I sneeze effortlessly sprinkling mishmash sorbets

from my flavored mouth. I wish for a conscientious creature to watch
me carry the burden of such beauty around. Please excuse me, I need to evidence

the generosity of these months. The way my knees are bending, even
the staunchest disciples of God would blush. There is of course the occasional

floundering when in the despair of a morning dream, a ball of fury
pounds down the deep end & I’m standing in its way on a high

table’s edge, my legs expectant like bowling pins, sinuous & god-fearing.
I’m trying to find out how could they pray better, how could they not topple.