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God Comes With a Hairdryer / Three Poems by Anandi Kar


Anandi Kar

God Comes With a Hairdryer


It's not too late

to

dust the leaves of the houseplants

speckled with bits of

chewed fingernails.

Daughters with anxiety

love to cook potato shells

every weekend,

buy purple bottles

for strawberry-shampooed hair

and iron the gift packet crisp

before wrapping the tiny leg of grief around it.

The jabberwockish recipe

from grandma's cookbook

is an easy answer to every riddle in her life and

mother's theory that nobody but God saves her.

God comes on Sunday afternoons and runs around with a hairdryer;

she must not be allowed to sleep with

her Wet Head.

Mother has dialled God.

it's a dangerous place

her wet and wobbly head

with insides as soft as

butterfly eggs.



The Moon in Winter


I wrap the blanket

More tightly around me today,

the apples have wilted into a mud brown,

The lazy brush twirls and

fingers dance

over stubborn woollen floors.

My coat waits lazily on its stand,

I snuggle into it for an evening walk

with the dying sun.

Languages of affection

create dents on my paper cheeks.

The wine bottle slips away

I talk through the night

to the lemony moon over

soft music and curled toes.

The moon crawls under the blanket

singing goodbyes to the ghosts of leaves and an

apple red sky

and wraps its light around

To rest with me.



The Moon is My Childhood Laughter


Nobody likes to stay in my home

where wet clothes never dry up

where loneliness plays

hopscotch alone in the courtyard.

I throw the moon at the sky

like the sprawling laughter

my grandmother loved to hear

like the yellow frisbee from

my girlhood.

I give her a bowl of hot milk

before she leaves.

And she leaves

as happy as a stray cat-

little, round and so complete

like the lives of dragonflies

in Autumn.


 


Anandi Kar

Anandi Kar, a proud queer, is currently pursuing a Master's degree in English Literature from Jadavpur University.


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