With the circus trade done for, clowns
are few and far. Sport and film stars,
models and politicos fill in the gap.
When connections take to unconnected
tracks they drum what we wish not to
catch the drift of, closely bird-dogging
for collaborators. Moot point: what is
evil, Suggestio Falsi or Suppressio Veri?
Epilogues are fortuitous settings.
In them is cached anthology of
of those that could have been
In outrecuidance of vacuums,
need is to nurture the self.
If you reach yourself,
you will reach others.
Took on grief that wasn’t mine
so you could mollycoddle me.
By the time this reached you,
the dandling didn’t matter.
Ambivalence of apodictic hooks
makes sense of truths we spurn.
Antinomes possess incertitudes.
In-betweenness is blight and boon.
It is a condition.
What others see as loneliness,
is natural to some.
In its recesses sundry worthwhile
connections come alive.
These fuel inner channels to fruition.
Resultant bliss is the reward.
Comstockery is ammunition in the repository
of regimes who wish to postpone unfamiliar
ideas from entering portals of understanding.
Uninformed balloters are escalators to victory.
Mass media blitz ensures total eclipse isn’t
feasible: cataract of blurred realities feed us.
In this map of mindlessness the vulgus are
their own cartographers.
Sanjeev Sethi is the author of three books of poetry. His most recent collection is This Summer and That Summer (Bloomsbury, 2015). His poems are in venues around the world: Ann Arbor Review, Mad Swirl, Empty Mirror, Antarctica Journal, Scarlet Leaf Review, First Literary Review-East, Right Hand Pointing, The Paragon Journal, Grey Sparrow Journal, The Synesthesia Anthology: 2013-2017, London Grip, Be Untexed, and elsewhere. He lives in Mumbai, India.