Read Poem: Trinkets, by Kartik Prajapat

if a home I had
I wouldn’t have discontinued
the trinkets, I find my life.
dispersed, decorative
they somehow have me they aren’t alone.

don’t figure out
who they are? or else you’ll
lead me, my urban
which you give the dreams
and where me, a dream daily dies.

a vase of 1990’s vintage stands
down in the mouth, porous, its skin
holds the patterns of the past,
sleazy newspapers read bulletins of the times horrible than ours;
in a pitcher, surrounds the life
of a broken lid, and no undersides.
thousands of kilos of polyethylene bags promises within,
an énouement sky I see over flyovers
gently sloping to our huts underneath
much the same as silt, grit, and gravels.

people where understand no people
think no more.
they couldn’t have but they’d skinned my cat for
their one-time meal and me, I ate my heart.

―Kartik Prajapat

About poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film.
This entry was posted in 2020 Poetry, poetry, Poetry Festival, Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s