Amit Majmudar

On your thirtieth birthday, you find that your clothes Belong to someone slimmer. It’s like only your socks haven’t shrunk in the wash. From then on, you remember Undressing in front of a lover or mirror To reach for the dimmer. . . . . Continue Reading »

You needn’t be born a Bourbon To dream your funereal deluge, Some climactic climatic disturbance To rain out the end of your reign. A desultory drizzle of tears Is the most that most of us . . . . Continue Reading »

Infinity requires us to count to three, our calculus and three-step proof. Dust cubed is dust: The sum of love, unequalled, spans the fingers of a single hand. The word, archaic, still solves for man. Those Aramaic postulates hold” the algebraic is never old. We do the math to know the soul: . . . . Continue Reading »

It would seem, from the sound of it, slang ?In Her Majesty’s Navy, say, circa ?Trafalgar”the deckhand whose job was ?To heave-ho the anchor aboard, ?The chain like a slain sea serpent? Collecting in coils behind him. Or maybe a meteor fragment, ?Some glittery space-coal without ?Any real . . . . Continue Reading »

Aching for Acre, in a sacred ague, They’re setting out. They wear only their nightgowns, These ageless androgynes, these little angels Who raise their wooden swords and hymns of glass. They’re saying how the journey there will be A stroll between aquariums reviewing Divisions of moray and . . . . Continue Reading »

After I had burned alive a spell, spellbound by the burning that bound me, I saw an Ice Cross rising down to me through sea- blue sky. This Ice Cross was the eye’s cross, submerged for years in the eye’s aqueous humor, an iceberg crux cracked off the Pole Star and splashed deep”all . . . . Continue Reading »

Lord, late though I am, slide the lathe And shape, shave me. Shear me wraith- Slim, slave-thin; flay the skin in moth- Wings off my soul’s loathed sheath. Wrath- Ripe as I am, pluck me, pulp me. Filth That I am, bathe me. Faith, Be water; Father, help me drown. I cannot breathe until you . . . . Continue Reading »

Heavy water, holy water, we are weighed on By your waterweight, you proton- Poisoned fission vintage we dare not sip. A drip weighs torrents on the tongue and lip. Tritium, trinity water, three-in-one God’s Sweat condensed on a fuel rod’s throb, Heavy as falling heavens, you weigh . . . . Continue Reading »

Apache rotors, envying windmills no more, Thresh the air wheat-gold. On lonely state routes We can witness them whisper the harvest. They idle gently, no intention to ascend. A fine, dry chaff gilds the passing windshield. Where are the wars that whet these blades? Far off, Far off and not . . . . Continue Reading »

The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and ­blossom. Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy .”The Book of Isaiah A desert needs only an orphan’s portion of rain on seeds deep and dormant For acres of . . . . Continue Reading »