Nadia Chaney
Daily
Bangalore
morning
pours into a river
alchemic
the bus stopped in front
of our motorcycle
throbbing with bodies
bright buttons
rake-marks in hair oil
yellow nails road hard
in rubber chappals
a man’s bag
snags in the bus door
his feet lift
his face a mask of shock
bus shudders
hurls forward
asphalt steam
licking at his soles
will he drown in front of me
dragged into relentless currents
but someone uncouples him
falls from the bus
to his knees he falls
head bowed falls
hands on the breathless road
in his stillness
his falling
framed in currents
of braided gold
acid wash
heirloom leather
fresh banana leaves
stacked high release
fragrant ghost pools and
rows of live chickens
hanging from a pole
all that is this river
flows around him
swallows his salvation
just another ripple
in the rushing