by Mukund Gnanadesikan

Too Many Words

Obfuscate if you must
If it helps assuage the sickness
That roils your conscience
Causing fever and delirium

Excuse me if the corners of my mouth
Remain unmoved by your gyrations
Of flowing lingual dance, your
Filtered apologies spilling over dam’s edge

Ears trained by transparent orations
Blown away before the eye can catch them
Now doubt the honeyed promises
Of reparations and prosperity

Now is the time for action and amends
Given without fanfare, without bluster
Mouth closed, hands and heart open
Approach and act with me, together.


She hobbles forth on the twisted ankle
Of capricious ill circumstance
Pain is nothing if not constant
Unwavering in its attentions
No arms bend to hold her
To buttress frame as thin
As Sunday communion wafer
And equally as disregarded

Scrub away the dirt, the grime
And ostentatious dwellings gleam
Invisible forever, she disappears with a twenty
No smile, no warmth, no thank you from the boss

Home is a dingy room, musty and sparse
Safe for the shedding of tears
Fit for little else
Who dares ask for more?

About the Author:

Mukund Gnanadesikan is a poet and novelist currently based in Napa, CA. A 1992 graduate of Princeton University, his poems have been featured or are upcoming in Sheets:For Men Only, Adelaide Literary Journal , The Ibis Head Review, Tuck Magazine, Junto Magazine, Streetlight Press, The Bangalore Review, Blood and Thunder: Musings on the Art of Medicine, Junto Magazine, Poesis Literary Magazine, and The Cape Rock.