by Sanjeev Sethi
As a child when I witnessed
on overwrought passages,
strings of sorrow trussed me.
As though my cells were encoding
jiggers I wasn’t conscious of.
Later it crawled:
Parturition had hierarchized another set.
Ordinariness of happiness wasn’t for me.
Quiddity was itching to be ciphered.
Sanjeev Sethi has authored three books of poetry which includes This Summer and That Summer (Bloomsbury, 2015), widely published in several countries. He was recently in The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Futures Trading, The Aerogram, Revolution John, Chronogram, Duane’s Poe Tree, Sentinel Literary Quarterly, Ink Sweat and Tears, New English Review, The Galway Review, In Between Hangovers, Otoliths, and elsewhere. He lives in Mumbai, India.