5th September, 2015 // 12:18 p.m. // Ghatkopar, Mumbai

Eaten Flowers by Amy Lawless


You know that feeling of not knowing where you're going?
It looks great on TV but not in real life.
In life, when physically lost, you just stand there
with a facial expression that would
embarrass even the bottom of a toilet
- looking around raising eyebrow upon eyebrow
Then you see a a sign - a colour really: The colour of the sign
tells you you've gone off in the wrong direction.
So turn around and around to find the thing you're looking for.
Do you need an example? Ok: Blink. Now tell me what you saw.
When your lids sealed / when your lash batted lash.
Here we pause and taste wild dandelions.
Our senses must be evoked in
conjunction with memory.
It was like ...
I held buttercups upto the chins of two friends
The yellow shadow cast onto their chins
proved they were in love with each other.
But I didn't eat a dandelion or a buttercup: Didn't have to;
Remembered what hey tasted like from when I’d lay in my

backyard pretending to be Huck Finn chewing a piece of grass,
a piece of whatever, cool as a cucumber waiting for airplanes
to pass loudly overhead, waited so I could pretend to be scared.
But really just waited to freak out so I could get a hug.
After that I can’t help you. You must see the color black
for yourself as deep far down as possible—past the uvula to the soul.
Walk down the lane until it ends, until you are on the outskirts.
The lane is brown; dirt from the rocks you kick
gets into your lungs and chokes you hard.
You may splay your limbs in different directions but—& despite
worst fears—you’ll never be seen as a swastika from space
in the satellite footage. It was never as bad as you thought.
One guy knew this was going to happen--
he held the sleeve of his hoodie up to his face
covering both nose and mouth.
Another friend makes sure I carry an air mask and a pill
of potassium iodide in my purse wherever I go, so I’m all good.

Passionflower - Jon Gomm

listen

Born in your tiny prison cell
A million times smaller than you are
One single drop and you're risen up
afraid of the dark
You crack up through the pavement,
in super, super slow motion
Though your back is gently breaking
You reach for the light
We can see everything
We can hear everything
Weakness is not your weakness.
You are what you grow into
You're not what you were.