bliss station ~ poetry

steps to excavation

i.

there are all the signs of tracheotomy

with breath like this / vaguely fossilized

uncorrupted by smell / taste of sounds

on every petiole of the skeletal possibility

of an incision / you fix a stake to anchor

the strings that map the grid / the squares

look like triangles in the corner of triangles

dressing of loose soil is done with torn jeans

blue / stains of spilled tea near the crotch

ii.

petiole: the slender stalk by which the leaf

is attached to the world around it in a storm

of pardoned leaves // what a dark & narrow

path we come out of & how hauntingly similar

the journey back / & how ants extract sugar

from spilled tea & how we should do that

sometimes / near the crotch / spill tea

iii.

                                       - that feels of gold

on a walk in 2G on the grid / outside it

birds turned inwards & towards & under

the fall-back leaves of cassava

back on the grid -

finish excavation upto the approved depth

upto a disposable family of trocars

there are steps we left & will leave but all

the roads lead to decannulation so stop &

start breathing a fossil of a song of a question

mourning by itself: what is the decade in that

one note you like to hold?

~Ajay
26/12/2019