THE SENSE IN SHARING
Tidal turned twenty that summer.
I took the train for an hour
then took off my clothes.
I still haven’t seen an Indian coast,
rocky beaches and floods of my parents’
college days. I’ve seen a photo of my mother’s
face in a classmate’s hair. they clutch each other
chunnis and grins shocked
in the salt wind. I guess I’ll tell my niece
about my weekend in Quincy
but what will I say?
I took the train for an hour, just one line
then I drank a lot and took off my clothes.
for my party I got crepe paper
and a free bin of beer from a sublet stranger
and it was strange to be on the kitchen floor
too drunk to take off my clothes. yeah
I’m a shadow! boxer baby
I wore peach one night to breathe
and my hot friends came over
I cooked in the heat, daal in the house
where I rented one of seven bedrooms
with a wooden spoon to taste.
that is, my hot and generous friends.
after two months they left school
for California. all we knew was California.
we never even got pictures.
that summer they were in love, or at least
making cakes together, turning to sponge
at twenty. one was a dancer and my best friend’s ex.
the other liked me and was sincere.
coconut flakes in sugar
stuck to my teeth
afterwards I wanted
ice more than water