‘Ganga’ by Kavitha Rath


In my third eye,

I rose out of the Potomac

through sun-pierced cloudlight,

Ophelianic, offering slippery selkie love

to the self-ordained fashionites

who reject my cinnamon-laced libation,

sacred gift of release.


They trample the ashes

in their gauche ballerina flats,

bows and crosses on the toes

mirroring contact concerns and icy dream-glares.


What injustices permeate this small world

with its liminal limelight.

Miniscule minds cast gargantuan shadows,

loath to consider

the harrowing humor of human interaction,

and measure elixirs of life

in millimeters of connections


turning red love to blue-black blood,

seeping through a funnel

of sameness in a diasporic sea,

where the individual lies flat against the tide.


On the waterfront,

thefashionites recede into cutout, silhouetted selves

that eschew the experiential mystery

of self-created glamor,

teetering on their desire to break the patterns.


The lights morph on the mortal water,

as I attempt to bring the fire forth.


Souls map their differences

to banalities, within boundaries.

I imagine the moment Brahma sent Ganga to Earth

to flow, to purify, and to travel

on to the nether-world.

In this mini-city, I am so bored.

Kavitha RathPoet’s Bio: Kavitha Rath lives in Washington, DC and has written blog and journal articles focused on global health. In the past, she has received an honorable mention in Princeton’s Leonard L. Milberg ’53 High School Poetry Prize contest, and recognition from the Georgia Poetry Society. She enjoys writing about literature and post-colonialism on her blog Illume at Eight.

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