Two Poems - Sonali Raj

If I were your dog

If I were your dog
I would begin by
licking the hollow
of your toes.

If I were your dog
I would lie on my back
with my arms and legs
in the air and you would
scratch my chest, around my
nipples, down
to my belly.

You would change
in front of me because
I wouldn't leave your room.
I would lie on my stomach
with my head on the floor,
between my paws and after
a while of looking at you
naked, I would get bored
and turn on my side.

But if you prefer, I could
be your kitten and
spend the night
between your breasts.

Doing Yoga

You cannot convolute me, you cannot
I have a bone there that can't bend from its middle, it cannot
My breaths are short because I'm thinking dirty thoughts
Your laughter is fake because you don't smile afterward
Leave me alone at five o'clock.

Sonali Raj lives in India and has an MFA from City University, Hong Kong. Her work has appeared in Eastlit, Kitaab and a few other places.

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This past summer was like all other suburban summers: short and hot. Short enough so that it came and went and, having not overstayed its welcome, would be welcomed again. Hot enough that little kids cracked eggs on their asphalt driveways, scrambled for a round of hide and go seek, and before the tiny seeker could finish counting to ten and move her hands from her eyes, the yolks were very well done. On both sides.

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It was a sad day when William Blake shot himself in his library. When the police arrived at his home shortly after his wife called him, they found most of his books lying on the floor with some of the pages ripped out. His wife was standing near his body crying profusely while clutching his suicide note in her trembling hand. They wondered why such a renowned writer such as he would have even thought about killing himself. He seemed to have such a wonderful life. The homicide detective asked her what was written in the note, so she handed it over to him. The note said, “I had too many books to read. They just sat on their shelves laughing at me while I tried my hardest to read as many as I could. Intelligence is that selfish patronizing world that always seems to keep its distance away from me. When I find myself finally grasping a new concept, it opens a new avenue to another that will also eventually keep its distance away. Revelations are like the sweetest fruit that is too h...

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For Mardi Gras 1997, we had a show set up at the RC Bridge Lounge. Somehow we got White Flag to fly in and play the show Mardi Gras day. We got a call from the Supersuckers booking agent

White Liquor

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