Shoc shok winter’s here at swansea.
It cannot be. The glaze mazes
but the enamour is dying shrill.
For sure the plumage fluffs with air.
Ekes pure white patience necking centuries.
Jazz thurls me to a leap sulking
corner ; a funnel looms out from the gem of
my navel where you put your finger spite
I told you it’s lucky for a woman alone,
reduces a man and cackles.
Note: These poems first appeared in Catapult Season (Writers Workshop, 1992).
Mani Rao has eight books of poetry including Ghostmasters (Chameleon Press, 2010), Echolocation (Math Paper Press, 2014) and New & Selected Poems (Poetrywala, 2015). Links to her poetry and other writing are on www.manirao.com.