Under The Tent

By Urvish Lodha

shave the palm trees, 

mother’s head 

little parakeets roll cars 

on the mat 

final showers 

leave the towel 

seat your chai 

on baby fat 

and roll 

under the tent, 

roll 

under the tent 

Ganesh 

skies are rumbling, 

drums are constant 

pooling roads 

stuffing sweets, 

slender creaks 

women singing 

on microphones 

orange skies, 

a cratered road 

watchman’s stick 

barking dog 

pigeon feathers 

bunched lay 

leaves torn out, 

a bouquet 

sits atop a landfill 

peeling old posters

by the puddle 

a week-old banner 

melts into the road 

the fire of a bike tire 

but the tent is temporary.

By Urvish Lodha