Seeking Sati

("Suttee", James Atkinson, 1831)

MY anime and your grime
No! I want to date Time
Divine, as it may sound,
but I’m left with
Shards of my wind chime.

My brine and your Ganges,
But, putrid notions never rhyme,
Silhouettes are just shadows,
Most of me is blind.

In Fine Print

Ink from Ankleshwar,
Newsprint from Nepanagar,
Editors from 'Subversia',
Freedom cries the media,

Wardrobe malfunction,
disoriented demolitions,
Sops for all,
Nano for nothing at all?

Holy underbelly,
Jello bellydancing in telly,
escaping Australian quagmires,
"Mother Superior, pump up the jam"
Goa's Troubled hippy,
drowned in ecstasy,
Are you into People's Democracy?

But there's Saffron in red tape,
with encounters of the fourth kind,
"Drink, my baby, drink,
drink the blood from the Canal,"