Sanjeev Sethi has published three books of poetry. This Summer and That Summer (Bloomsbury, 2015) is his latest. His poems have found a home in Yellow Chair Review, Red Wolf Journal, Expound, Venus in Scorpio Poetry, Off the Coast, Literary Orphans, The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Café Dissensus Everyday, Section 8 Magazine, The Jawline Review, Right Hand Pointing, Revolution John, Futures Trading, The Aerogram, Chronogram, Duane’s Poe Tree, The London Magazine, The Fortnightly Review, Ink Sweat and Tears, Sentinel Literary Quarterly, New English Review, The Galway Review, In Between Hangovers, Otoliths, and elsewhere. He lives in Mumbai, India.
Prosetry of backlit glance, stot of your smile
chiseled my corners: the math of seduction
coerced me to falsehoods. Alliaceous floats
smelled like spice. Beads of my chaplet were
soaked in the drain of deception. Prebuttal is
in-built in conversations. In our tie-up the
mind was mortaged.
Symphonies of another summer
lure me to a lonesome walk
on the sideways of sorrow.
The sun helps by hiding in cirrus.
Moments such as these urge:
salvation is in acceptance.
Your retinae blurred with bitterness
finds me exhausted and unanxious.
I can’t muster energies required
for exhumation. I gifted you
my dictionaries, don’t inquire
of words that do not dwell there.