by Sanjeev Sethi
Docked myself and
waited. I remained uncut for years.
I exungulated. Tonsure artists
worked on my visage.
When it was to
meet, we met. I need a Mary Norris
to assist me with
anxieties in choosing the en or em dash.
is the mnemonic of my writing soufflé.
scar for the in-between of another’s
edifying sandwich is work of poet-chefs.
To brag about not
being a humblebrag, is being it. There
is need to bow to
the other’s belief: issues melt this way.
I wish I were born
at 50, skipping the needle of nonage.
Sanjeev Sethi is the author of three well-received books of poetry. His most
recent collection is
This Summer and That Summer (Bloomsbury, 2015). His poems are in venues around the world:
Off the Coast, Drunk Monkeys, Degenerate
Literature, Haikuniverse, Linden Avenue Literary Journal, The Bitchin’
Kitsch, The Blue Mountain Review, The Penwood Review, Squawk Back, The Five-Two, W.I.S.H. Press, Easy Street, Novelmasters, Postcolonial Text, Otoliths, and elsewhere. He
lives in Mumbai, India.