Circling Figures

It was something to do. Direct the words
from the mouths on the bus to the page.
See something, say something. Signs to
go, signs to stop, signs to do it slowly.

She says she doesn’t much like poetry, hates
to dismiss but it floats right through her,
in one ear, out. Slippery floor. Leaves you
where you started, right back beginning.

At some point, she acknowledges, something
is better than nothing. Sitting on the couch
streaming smoke or streaming. Teacup ride.

Loop-de-loop. Traffic circle for fifteen minutes,
Shakespeare in the park, audience of one drunk
pigeon wheeling. See something. Say something.



Click here to read Mihir Bellamkonda's compositional note.

Image:  Wonder-ful Bus Station (2) by zeevveez, licensed under CC 2.0.

Mihir Bellamkonda:

Poetry offers no money and little consolation. So why do I keep writing things down on scraps of paper? I wrote this poem to attempt to answer the question. The compulsion to turn experiences and sensations into text isn’t profitable or popular, but for me, the need to see something, say something cuts through the bus rides, the working hours, and the quiet parks. I’ve seen something, so, necessarily, I’m saying something.”

Mihir Bellamkonda
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