Winter 2009

Table of Contents - Vol. V, No. 4


Poetry    Translations    Non-Fiction    Fiction    Reviews   

Kavita Gandhi


Homecoming Tallahassee

We passed into the city
like sterile vessels
aching under the 3 o’clock hour.
Our eyes staggered through
the epileptic cop car lights,
picking still freeze scenes
from the festival blur.
Loud rice cake voices, singing blandly,
motored by, while bass-lines
bucked the soft, dark fat
of the night’s underbelly.
The town was an echo
of beastly thundering.
Alley cat eyes prowled
in aimless acquisition.
Traffic jammed,
bumper-bumper rut
thumped on the gas.
Booming happy swarms
bounced off our headlights.
Gaping past the cranking cars,
I saw the quiet moon shudder in the sky.


Café Luna

You pool in excess,
liquid as the light
puddled on the fading
velvet of the chair.
Like a nervous
squirrel pawing
a nut,
you touch your queen,
and the room corners me
until I feel like a funny
puzzle in which the pieces
have been forced together.
My eyes,
dim, milkless
counter yours.
Around us, voices
dribble and caffeine
lips are glued to
rattling coffee mugs,
but I hear only your fingers crawling.
A sudden arm
tips the table and
a black knight becomes
a casualty.


© Kavita Gandhi



Poetry    Translations    Non-Fiction    Fiction    Reviews   

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