The garden path and all that jazz by Anisha SenGupta Yanger

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The garden path and all that jazz

Anisha SenGupta Yanger

Often enough,
the ziplock splits
the bones crash,
and I can feel the days presence all too well,
the particles of my cerebellum,
caught unawares
just like the watchtower
its not able to keep track
of the salubrious
needs and has put together
a search of sorts, futile in time,
a calibrated onset of old and new, a used photo, a preset to an onset, a zap
a heart lurch,
a momentary confusion,
another parable, exiting the marrow
so entrenched in the dailies but flying high, the lines
been drawn,
3 times over at least and
on the invisible one, the tropics heaving over my shoulder, where not a drop of water was to be found
But Ares sits, amused,
I move quiet
intently,
winding my way around atonement
the belly of the beast
fed, distracted for a moment,
and the equal measure of pain and passion
steady, at least for a, moment.

Submissions are open. If you have a poem you want me to read on the podcast, now’s the time.

I’m looking for the one that lights you up. The one you’re proud of. The one you can’t read without crying. The one that makes you feel something big.

Let’s make space for the one this Fall on One Poem Only.

Deadline is Thursday, July 31.

🍎 Submit Here 🍎