In my own way
I’ve lived in here
I know opaque and clear
And this is where I’ll stay.
Until the knife
Cuts into my self
And I’m paired with a shelf
And that ends my life.
They call me slimy yet
I’m of the ocean's birth.
I take up most of the Earth.
I’m ready for my sunet.
I know that I construe
What I am through
the abundance of the new
I’m right next to the clue.
If you can find
A way to just know
And now I must go
And be part of body and mind.
About the Creator
Skyler Saunders
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Smartystan
Chanda sent home money every two weeks. In a small village in India, she deposited money into the bank account of her aunt and uncle who sent her to live in America. The place seemed so remote, almost cut off from the rest of the country. There, a festival took place where participants hurled cow eliminations at each other. The muddy, mucky sense of it had been known for centuries. Locals tied it to an ancient god who they believed restored people’s health with the cow plops. During the festival, thick patties passed through the air and smushed into the bodies and faces of those rollicking around in the filth.
By Skyler SaundersExclusive • 6 days ago
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