Issue 3.37

from CURB

CAST IN PLACE: SRINIVAS KUCHIBHOTLA

 लुकाछुपीबहुतहुईसामनेआजाना
कहां-कहांढूंढातुझे
थकेहैअबतेरीमां

Enough of the hide & seek, come before me.
I searched for you everywhere.
Your mother is now tired.
“लुकाछुपी” from Rang De Basanti. Prasoon Joshi/ A.R. Rahman

1.

February, 22, 2017. I had been carrying her
six months. Within
me, she could open
her eyes, she could tell
dark apart from light. She could know
when daylight filtered
through the cathedral, a ray breaking
the sticky pane
cranberry stained
glass womb.

2.

When I read the news
of the shooting, this belly
plumed into an apse— it distended
upward, a balloon hollow
but leaden, these lungs lifted
here—this diaphragm fled, bore through
a tent made of ligament
& rope. The billow screeched
in these ears, pulled here— these legs apart
these toes went numb & cold. The ground
beneath me collapsed, turned to dunes
& the sand quickened. Here— this belly
carrying those pounds of flesh
began to take flight
in seconds it was
in—here—this mouth, pressing against here—these teeth—
a pear balloon, hot flush
with wet wings beating, with wet wings thrashing
in these lungs. The breath
an ocean of blood. This skin
here—a dam, detonating. A pulse, here
pulling history
towards these feet.

Read the full poem in Issue 3.37 of The Capilano Review

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