Kinaara

Anomitra Biswas has begun her third year at JUDE, and is apprehensive about Modernism and Macbeth. She hankers after obscure genre fiction and comprehensible poetry.

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Feast

I will slice your flesh into slivers
And the tender meat pull
With great care from the bones
Of your hands, and crunch them
So that your marrow lies in my mouth,
Your hands, feet, belly I will devour,
Your thighs roast, your lips eat raw,
Your brains slurp with relish,
I will gorge myself on your still-warm corpse,
Till all you were is securely held
In my still-breathing body;
Tonight I will feast on you
And tomorrow walk away, belly full.

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Lullaby

Keep the nightmares from me
As I sit crouched against a hollow,
Concrete and crumbling brick
Mingling with my hair,
Creeping into my clothes,
Colouring, corroding, my skin,
And exhausted, let my eyes close,
The flames of burning buses fanning
Into greater heat the humid air,
The screams of dying men
And the mobs’ shouted slogans
Loud in my ears, let me sleep.

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