Standing Nude by Amrita Sher Gil
six friends to carry your box
and coffins don’t have pockets
Tired of practicing my funeral
I stumble out, loose as change
throw my hat in the ring
at the Sidestreet Rodeo Café.
half-shaved visions
ice skid winters
rivers, we stripped in mangers of heaven,
I tug my coat, no match for a frosted soul.
Riptide lonely, sundown eyes
can remember when, but don’t remember why,
we jumped on that slide.
Sniffin’ for a campfire spark
a charred sirloin heart
speared away like fragile sheets
of ghost sneeze rain
showering dutiful remains.
Crying days gone, blues lick in the wind
ship bobbing in the vulture black sky
sailing god’s last storm.
Radiant stars in the dark bar
Spanish beauty thick raven hair
a nightfall of water
not a drop to spare.
Golden sepia shades
goodbye trains leaving my thoughts
a shredded terrain.
I go to pay
she hands me a lollipop as if I’m four
I forgot what I came in for.