He Contemplates L’Arc de Triomphe


This poem appears out of a collaboration with Isha Agrawal on Instagram, who asked me to write on the picture she shot. Find her here.

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Home and the World


Momo loved the Hudson. On clear afternoons, when yachts glided by on the river’s shimmering surface, she gazed upon the Statue of Liberty and decided to become an American some day. ‘When has geographical distance stopped us romantics, Juju?’ she asked, her bold red dreams flying like Cadillacs against blue Manhattan skies.

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Dreaming A Watchtower


In ruins where the gallant fought, starred above
The reach of towering walls, enflaming
Spirits, Silence stands; a violet dove
Circles the Moon with lonely cries; feigning
And lying, sparks of Life that ebbed here, die
Again in memories, in stories, told
In various shades of red; all tales lie,
Lie buried in ruins while tales unfold.
Distant, distinct, ahead of where I stand,
A church bell tolls over the barren land.

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