What I’ll Wear to Your Funeral & Other Poems:Vasudha Pande

What I’ll Wear to Your Funeral & Other Poems:Vasudha Pande

Inspiration

will not come to you nor
will it lie hidden waiting
to be put in your pocket
this creature it is not
a tease nor
does it know its own name

find it gasping beside an old man on a park bench
clutching its chest
tired sore out of breath
find it in the gutter
screaming kicking thrashing
its spindly limbs about
find it on a winter’s morning
lying among memorabilia from
another life another time
find it hanging in the salty air
staring at the whooshing noise
of August going by
find it on the street
shining timorously
drowning
in the steady glare of urban light
find it take it home
feed it your eyes nose ears skin tongue
let it explore the constellations
that make up so many of you each
a person in itself
then let it pick one and hold it mold it hand it back
take this gift call it your own

 

You look at your city

you see young people
standing in porous groups on pavements,
holding cigarettes and insecurities
and grand plans for the future.
you hear the screech of a metro
pulling out of a station and
it becomes the sound of your friends howling,
their entire lives shrunk to the size of
a night that fits inside two beer cans.
they lie on cold floors
in mounds of limbs and smoke and soggy chips.
glorious pyramids,
now dancing with purple monsters
and now marveling at the changing shapes of their hands.
in rooms far away
their parents fuck –
angry penises and cunts rubbed raw –
pulling out world after dull world from
each other’s mouths
and sprinkling stardust on them.
faking magic,
hoping to fall in love again.
you see children
wistfully eyeing the ice cream cone in your hand.
you bow your head,
walk past them.
you sit on a broken bench
in a park and leaf through
the book of poetry you just bought,
shutting out your world
and escaping into the poet’s.
you are home.

 

What I’ll Wear to Your Funeral

I just heard that you died.
I know it was on your wish list
With must-have black dress
and that perfect smile you never had.
I’ll wear them both to your funeral.

 

Paper boats

people with a penchant for paper boats
and rainwater
puddles will fold you over and drown you
in lesser seas.

About author

Vasudha Pande
Vasudha Pande 2 posts

Vasudha Pande read physics in college, and she enjoys writing in her spare time. She lives in New Delhi.

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