ISSN: 1941-4137
POETRY THAT ENACTS THE ARTISTIC AND CREATIVE PURITY OF GLASS
POETRY THAT ENACTS THE ARTISTIC AND CREATIVE PURITY OF GLASS
Meher Manda is a poet, short story writer, journalist, and educator from Mumbai, India based in New York City. She earned her MFA in writing from the College of New Rochelle where she was the founding editor-in-chief of The Canopy Review. She is one-half of An Angry Reading Series, and the author of Busted Models, a chapbook of poems published by No, Dear Magazine. Her work can be found in Bustle, Scroll, Firstpost, Lumina, La Lengua, and Newtown Literary.
Also by Meher Manda:
Busted Models
Poets Resist
Edited by Kwame Opoku-Duku
September 15, 2019
Edited by Kwame Opoku-Duku
September 15, 2019
Things I Do Extraordinarily: For The Immigration Overlords Who Demand a Proof of Excellence
1. Drinking my wrong coffee order in silence.
2. Spending an inexplicable amount of time dreaming up “what would my life be” routines. Like “what would my life be” if I was a singer with prodigious talent who smokes cigarettes purposely out of irreverence toward this said talent. “What would my life be” if I could be one of those girls who share healthy, transparent relationships with their mothers. “What would my life be” if I could be someone who loved and allowed herself to be loved?
3. Having an anxiety attack without troubling any one in my life. You would die in shock if you found out how sick I was.
4. Finding order in chaos. Cc’ing, my mind, my body, my notebooks, my writing desk, my bedroom, my relationships.
5. Avoiding death. Never once touching upon it.
6. Tearing up at little children performing badly on talent shows. For all those who know how awful they are, but who encourage them nonetheless. Where is this consideration for adults?
7. Finding new, never-before-considered ways to ruin whatever’s left of my sad excuse for a relationship with my parents.
8. Saying I’m sorry ad nauseum. I could say it in sleep. Run me over with your lawnmower so I can apologise to you.
9. Having gut feelings, and never trusting said gut feelings, at repenting for having never trusted the gut feelings, at promising to hold that regret for life.
10. Convincing myself that America can be home, can be home, can be home, if I just close my eyes and try really hard. Is that not enough? Shall I go on? When can I stop? When does this stop?
Poets Resist is published by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.
All contents © the author.
