overhead, optic fibres pose as stars.

a bulimic teen picks at pimples-
work forgotten-
trolleys have been tucked in,
the freight train has left
with an overdose of business mails,
beggars and kittens pick at fish-bones

the florist died last spring of excesses.

©Mohana Das

Linked to D’Verse


16 thoughts on “#029

  1. This is teasingly terse, real mysterious, pieced together like a collage of disasters depicting sorrow and loss, or a spiritual devastation undertaken in an electrical nightmare. Very nicely done.

    • Hi!!
      We had this “modernity” prompt at D’verse. This is my take on it.
      In the last line I write excesses meaning all that we seem so keen to collect beyond necessary, or beyond needs…simply put its my take on “excess of anything is bad” 🙂 🙂

      • Ohh, I see….that ways what you have put is quite true….practically anything in life whether in excess or less, almost always means inviting trouble…..Very nicely portrayed Mohana….:)

  2. You are from India and so I would expect you to say something like business mails, but you are actually talking about those suited alpha males who make the commute, it is fantastic wordplay and use of advantage. People are right, the transitions in this are wonderful, I see you have a rating button, because of the transitions and because of the effect that as a poem I want to eat this, I would give this a ten. I don’t think i would ever normally give people a ten, so hats off to you.

    that justthesame is awesome, it sums up the state of the classes and gives this poem a prescience you wouldn’t expect.

    subtle out the wahoo. the way this poem moves makes you comb it for connectors and I think that ‘work forgotten’ deal is the cat’s pygammas because it’s kind of like a hypnotist saying, ‘you will go into a deep sleep’ it gives us that connected scene theme in spades and programs us to follow along.

    with an overdose of business mails,
    beggars and kittens pick at fish-bones

    that part is priceless, like they are jettisoned, (justthesame)
    left at the side of things, static and away from momentum,
    and then that thought makes you appreciate the line about the freight train, the way that line moves and is its own momentum away from – trolleys tucked in – work forgotten…

    how a set of trolleys is somewhat like a train.

    The last line is gold by the way how that links to the men and the colour and the expense and then by contrast, back to the beggars and the kittens,

    but too me it seems awesome or entirely like the point of the poem that here’s this brilliant mind, capable of all this, trapped behind a checkout/cash register while the men go onward believing they are winsome.

    like, it would take the mind of a woman, connecting fantasy with social (issues) frugality and humanity and then sum it all up with a nice kind of a line about a “florist”

    so that is why i gave you a ten.

    excuse me if i strayed from the mark, I thought this was wonderful, and dense, and wonderful.

  3. Also: I like the angles you could look at this from, the first line indicates of that woman that: the lights are on but nobody is home.


    you are saying that the exterior is window-dressing and what you are describing is the working/functioning brain.

    Option 1 = veneer.

    Option 2 = true story.

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