A tree is growing in my throat – every time I daub my tongue on its twigs
rainbows sprout in my palms & all I crave is to sculpt a cabin
In the rose-quartz – domineering desire to flip-flop into a phantasmagoric meadow – osculate scented lavenders & canoodle gilt coronets of daffodils
my mother is
a ridge of kale
Repining in colony of aphids – she’s an earthquake-filled crucible & always
she is a lash of light being garroted by the country’s ego – every now
& then she looks at a boy gamboling in glottis of mamba eyes ablazing –
she rafts fingers into gears hutch, snatches Excalibur & flies into my
Mouth – she spends days hacking the root of the abominable ganglion –
burly thwacks! as I yodel blood & my eyes sing cadaver-flecked tears
Avalanching in endless continuum – as I swear I never planted the demon
as I swear it’s God’s gift of glee – as I swear i want the tree to grow,
Grow & keep growing – burly thwacks! as she says she’s saving me – as
she says I can’t love what our country hates – as she says, this country
Had morphed to fire & ate battalion of boys behaving like ruin & I won’t be
different. won’t be spared- but the tree refuses to leave its root & the
Root refuses to leave my gullet- the alien remains glued to my flesh
prepared to linger, blooming lullabies & puking love-specked cantatas
She leaves my throat panting – her palms continents of scars – two mangled
birds, pooped & bushed, we ensconce on cemeteries of each other’s eyes,
She, pouring her hands into the heart of God who angels tail-less horse –
me, strangling her fears, saying I’d ensure the tree grows & ages within
My mouth – no part of it shall give itself to the eyes of this country –
only indoor shall I, a boy, behave like a sassy girl
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