i like poetry. it lets me be abstract.


it starts to make sense

good can no longer be the standard.

we need to drop good.

to forsake it.

there is only one way now.

and one path to get to it.

we need to reset our eyes. renew our mind.

there is a sacrifice to be made.

i’m afraid it is good.

it has to go.

its reign was long, and indeed it was nice.

but it passed the time and now but a second remains.

in this last flash we need the…

At Barasat, Kolkuta.

while the sun was setting and the icy winds began to rush by us faster and faster. as we careened down what was passing for the nepali highway in this part of town. i turn my head to dev my passenger behind me and yell: ‘hey dev, how far till we get to our destination for the night?’. he replies yelling back to be heard over the blaring horns all around us: ‘umm, two jungles’.