The Varicose Life – Devika Mathur

Published at FVR


Time aches like my joint pain today,

A word of despair in the air,

With a chalice submerged in anxiety.

There is a bomb/ a knife somewhere hidden,

Hidden like a cult practice,

Destiny is a crime, we all commit,

Slipping our cheeks between the pale trees,

It’s almost death to see oneselfheld by this thing

A roughened lip speaking of a dark wasp,


Slips like a mother’s touch.

A knotted red hairdo,

How do you shift your mannequin?

The nude sun dressed like an orange hydrangea,

Flapping throughtalks of mind.

A generation is born inside the mouth,

Wobbling this entire body,

Time sits here on my lap,

And watches the bizarre

Belligerent touch of life.

Devika Mathur, is a poet from India. Her work has been published in Subterranean blue Poetry, Visual Verse, The rye whiskey, Indian periodicals, Sudden denouement and elsewhere.

She blogs athttps://myvaliantsoulsblog.wordpress.com/

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