THE BOTTLE
You smiled
to me at sunset
on the
beach near Puri
where
turtles come to hatch
their
young
and often
die
Disjointedly
you asked me
in your
damaged speech if I
would
let you have my empty
plastic
water bottle now
that
it was valueless to me
Touched,
and anxious to oblige
so fearful
that other people might
not be
kind enough to you
I handed
you the useless thing
And you,
poor damaged child
seemed
equally touched
till
I grew scared that I had
cheated
you
But in
that moment I also knew
that
I was handing you my life
because
by tomorrow morning
this
discarded bottle
will
be full of lethal water
which
I might buy
at noon
If you’re
lucky you may receive
one rupee
from the man
who fills
up all procured
or wasted
plastic
bottles
from
an illicit
village
tap
and sells
them to tourists
for twelve
In gratitude
you give me
beach
shells
nothing
special yet
close
to tears
I realise
as I
look into your
sweet
disfigured
eager
smiling
face
and at
these simple shells
that
you are handing me
the payment
for
my death
***
THE DROWNED MAN
The drowned
man
looked
drowned
His father
had drowned
before
him
The drowned
man had a
drowned
look
though
he was still alive
The drowned
man’s father
had drowned
to death
but the
drowned man
sadly
survived
and merely
looked drowned
and desperate
And desperate
the drowned
man was
as his
drowned dead father
had been
before him
But the
drowned man could
only
drown
and look
surprised that he was
still
alive
the drowned
man
and sad
to be
alive
the drowned
man
Surprised
and sad
drowned
alive
drowned
and sad
The poor
drowned man
whose
drowned father
died
***
BOY IN A WET SUIT
The boy in a black wet suit
looks at me
a handsome look
he’s a handsome boy
Yet at first his look
seems angry
so I’m sad
Then I recognise desire
and see it’s a burning look
He’s smouldering a bit
this handsome boy
and he wants me
Underneath his wet suit
he wants me
Within its clinging darkness
his body’s telling me
he needs me
It shows the outline of desire
And his smouldering smile
which isn’t angry at all
offers me love instead
It holds me
that handsome smile
he doesn’t let me go
the boy in a wet suit
whether I’m embarrassed
or dismayed
Burning, he turns around
and with one arm undoes
the zip at his back
Slowly it descends and I
start to see the tanned
perfection of his back
I imagine the perfection
he will show me
lower down
since the wet suit cannot
conceal
the brilliance of his
shape
Yet the zip stops at precisely
the point his back ends
before the perfect buttocks start
the perfect arse begins
It's like the perfect cut on film
and a thousand times
more sexy than
his beautiful
perfect
nakedness
would be
He turns again and
lures me
to the troubling
sea
***
