Shloka Shankar

Hanging in the Balance

Incompletely Complete

Memory Blocks III

Too Far to Matter

The wind
is in the silence.

(Like the worst) fever
in my bones, nebulous white—

the day is loud
out the window;

invisible webs
dissolve,
the earth turning around

itself
along this orange peel.

You shout
across the chasm
in half-sleep,

tears floating
like drops of oil.

Inside the rain,
a rootless solitude.

Shloka Shankar is a freelance writer and visual artist from Bangalore, India. She loves experimenting with Japanese short-forms and remixed/cut-up poetry alike. A Best of the Net nominee, her poems have most recently appeared in Frameless Sky, tinywords, Failed Haiku, former cactus, Under the Basho, and so on. Shloka is the founding editor of the literary & arts journal Sonic Boom, its affiliated press, Yavanika, and one of the Assistant Editors of Human/Kind Journal.

The text poem above is a cut-up/remixed poem composed from a series of travel-themed poems.

Twitter: @shloks89
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shloks89
 
 
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