Songs of Anisha
“The Ex,”
by Abigail George
I no longer exist in your world, flawed, reckless – but
all should not be regarded as lost – locked outside of a box.
Your elocution issues friction, friction, friction like folio.
At first, I found you enchanting, haunting, your fever inspiring.
Now I find you too distressing like a splinter, chips of ice
Like glass, like perfume in a vial, the prowess of chemicals.
Always fussing, always demonstrating the preparation of home
Still, still, still, we all have our reasons to stay.
This longing for you can never be completely wished away.
Now I can place your struggle, your sense of self, of history
The right side up effortlessly although they strike phases of tumultuous
Balances but balances nonetheless; you are careful of turning
points, watchful of harm, apprehensive of darting wisdom like
a snake or reeling eel, a jar of specimen spiked with formaldehyde;
it reminds me that there is wisdom and humility in silence.
Waterfalls do not hold any sway or fascination over me
Winter tales, the magnificent tug-of-war between dirt and purity
Only you have that power over me.
“Greedy Nation Sonnet,”
by Numero Unoma Giese
Of all the seven sins that plague our nation
There is one that afflicts us most
Even as it does woo our population
To every other ill it plays the gracious host.
We should not in this country want for victuals
Nor power, hospitals or schools nor roads
But we consume as though it were a ritual
And so to join us, all the others goad.
Ours is a land where labels make you better
A place where calibre is proved with brand
It helps to sport the odd logo or letter
It’s always favoured if it comes from jand
We never thought where all of this would lead
So busy were we paying obeisance to greed.
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