Sanjeev Sethi is the author of three books of poetry. His most recent collection is This Summer and That Summer (Bloomsbury, 2015). His poems have appeared venues around the world, including Spirit Fire Review, Empty Mirror, The Paragon Journal, Grey Sparrow Journal, Soul-Lit, New Mystics, Stride Magazine, London Grip, Communicators League, and elsewhere. He lives in Mumbai, India.
Remembrance
Sky is benign this season. It gargles directives
which I try decoding. Grok some but never get
to the understory. In this hubbub I meet myself
the most. Others are adventitious. When they
cross my curve, I peg them on a pedestal. Each
story is carved with a solipsistic edge even as
angles debate and offer contrary designs. You
rest in my mind, wake up at odd moments post-
marking a heads-up: there is no perfect burial.
(First published in The Bitchin' Kitsch)
Shadows
(1)
Weathervanes of desire yerk when downdraft of
a new sun rises to your breath. I feel your flurries
on my left arm, the right one is elsewhere. In such
an alpenglow muse helps.
(2)
Colonnade at the closest corner from city square
offers best sight possible. At this caecum, seeking
the sky, I burst: will this Sundog ever meet itself ?
(First published in 3:AM Magazine)
Sanjeev Sethi
 |
| Artwork by DH Allen |
Remembrance
Sky is benign this season. It gargles directives
which I try decoding. Grok some but never get
to the understory. In this hubbub I meet myself
the most. Others are adventitious. When they
cross my curve, I peg them on a pedestal. Each
story is carved with a solipsistic edge even as
angles debate and offer contrary designs. You
rest in my mind, wake up at odd moments post-
marking a heads-up: there is no perfect burial.
(First published in The Bitchin' Kitsch)
Shadows
(1)
Weathervanes of desire yerk when downdraft of
a new sun rises to your breath. I feel your flurries
on my left arm, the right one is elsewhere. In such
an alpenglow muse helps.
(2)
Colonnade at the closest corner from city square
offers best sight possible. At this caecum, seeking
the sky, I burst: will this Sundog ever meet itself ?
(First published in 3:AM Magazine)
Sanjeev Sethi
