Painting by Debasish Saha

TOMATOES REPLY

There are three kinds of people, I was told.

Those who take advice, those who learn from others’ errors,
those who only realize when shit happens to them.

I ate that scolding. Called her later from the grocery.
Let her know of three types of tomatoes.

Red all over, thick-skinned. Pesticides make them good
for photographs or soups.

Orangeish yellowish plucked green then gassed.
Tasteless, but a dash of lemon does wonders.

And those ripened on the vine. Expensive, but, I said,
I would like salad today.

STORY MOON

Pair of lovers coupled
with a full moon—
Formula for romance.

Silhouetted faces cradled
in a generous moon curve—
Pregnancy.

The same pair walking on a beach, skies overcast,
moon skidding on footprints—
Death, or death
rescued by separation.

If there is no moon, oh no moon, there is no
moon at all, where is the moon, there is no
moon, honey, there is no moon, no
moon, and saying it again conjures no
moon what’s a poet to do
without moon

WERE I A WIZARD THERE WOULD BE

Grilled cheese sandwiches ready-
-to-eat on trees. Crisp French fries
instead of beans.

All dentists in jail, teeth
made of steel

We’ll keep our moms, just wave
wands to make them nicer

PATHETIC FALLACY

Sunset sky

Youth gone
Passion lingers

COUPLE

One plus one, one.
One minus one, none.