1
Before jumping off
the low cliff by the river
for a dip
I remember looking
at you sideways
and,
in that very instant
what seemed like
a moment of respite
from the heat
you stared the other way
contemplating
the summer sky 

2
The trains moved
as furnaces
like transporting cattle

the iron bars
and metal sheet rolls
tied up to
open air boggies
felt free
like men on trails
free to stretch
their arms
on their way to courts  

3
Your mother said,
she remembered
the day your phone
was out of reach

4
The village was hot
and sweaty
with intermittent
electricity
supplying relief

on the screens
with images
and words 

5
The local newspapers
looked away
from you
and your
fashionable clothing

Remember
what your mother had
warned?

6
The buses
bumped through
the bad roads
like the mobile
spectrum
interrupting
email
twitter and countless
feeds

7
When the man looked
at you
I knew what he thought
You thought
he felt anger and
resentment

But I know he felt desire

8
Bricks have replaced mud
counting value
in all its forms

9
The dry and abandoned
streets
are picturesque
only on
filter laden
pictures on internet
predisposing distance
and nostalgia

Debarun Sarkar sleeps, eats, reads, smokes, drinks, labors and occasionally writes and submits his work. He spends most of his time juggling between freelancing and writing while halting at Calcutta for the moment. Recent works have appeared or are forthcoming in Visitant, Off the Coast, Your One Phone Call, Literary Orphans,Tittynope, Peeking Cat Poetry, Café Dissensus Everyday and Wild Plum, among others.