Mandalay shoots

Partha Chatterjee writes

Lotus 

A classical dancer unfurls
Her fingers one after another
To show the sun what has been hidden
In her cupped palm. 

chester giles writes

saint alexander

waiting for the storm
protected by tin saints
watching the girls in town
      spent hours
soaking in the damp of those houses
years soaking in the mildew and black spores
which grow in the corners of those rooms
          so now my skin just smells like old muslin
hung across windows
 catching the light and the weather
no perfume can disguise it
  it may as well be my colour
pallid and wax and pale
the colour of cold sweat and dead skin
the colour of the news paper they use to wrap new borns
before they leave them on the corner by the trash.

   i can't stand this madness
the sky never breaks, and watching these girls depresses me

alexander was sainted when he was eaten by the lions
alexander was sainted when he conquered persia
alexander was sainted when he put his dick in all those virgins sent to his campaign beds
alexander was sainted when he fucked the queen of sheba
   but still,
         he died in babylon

i don't want to be in babylon
i don't want to be with the wicked ones
  scared and ashamed to be found here
  in this place
with the wicked
and the weak heart
and the pagans

St Alexander was a Roman soldier who converted to Christianity and then converted others, he was captured by the Romans and fed to the lions in the arena. He is the catholic patron saint of soldiers. On saint medals his likeness bares resemblance to that of Alexander The Great. The poem is about both of them.




The Martyrdom of Saint Alexander of Bergamo -- Ponziano Loverni