Texts

Subhransu Maitra

“Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you
Were to live for ever.” M. K. Gandhi

If I learn that I may die tomorrow,
I am sure that once
the shock has been absorbed,
I will go light another cigarette
muttering nicotine’s a sure-fire shock-absorber,
saunter across to the open window;
and look to see if the neighbourhood pariah kites
have again parked themselves on the top rungs
of the tall telephone tower,
and wait for them to set afloat once more
under the dark carnal sun,
their coarse existential carols of shrill harsh animal joy
living moment by moment.

I may wait by the window,
wait all the same for them to insert their
texts, tremendous brittle eternal texts
into the ever-returning artifice of delinquent history
winding in its stairwell of time.
By the window I may be waiting for
the coarse redeeming pilgrim notes
to sail in the air and screamsing
into being certain orchards for a moment or two.
You come too.

(Composed in January 2024)