Confession

            "To take a homeopathic approach to the soul is to deal with the darkness in ways that are in tune with the dark." – Thomas Moore
 

It’s taken time
to realise
no one survives. 
Not even the ordinary.

Time to own up then
to blue throat
and gall bladder extraordinaire, 

to rages pristine,
guilt unsmeared
by mediocrity, 

separation traumas
subcontinental 
and griefs that dare
to be primordial. 

Time to iron out
a face corrugated
by perennial hope, 

time to shrug off
the harlotry
and admit
there’s nothing hygienic
about this darkness –
no potted palms,
no elevator music.  

I erupt from pillars,
half-lion half-woman. 

The floor space index I demand
is nothing short
of epic. 

I still wait sometimes
for a flicker of revelation 
but for the most part
I’m unbribable. 

When I open the coffee percolator
the roof flies off.