Mallika Singh is a poet, cook, and facilitator who writes about borders, surveillance, and intimacies. Their chapbook Retrieval is forthcoming from Wendy’s Subway this summer.
I heard that joy would come
in that prison guard’s office
the roof was leaking, an old
forgotten fern still green
& outside
every worker unwilling
every worker planting
seeds in the empty plot
seeds in the pipeline
whose land are dreams built on?
& safety?
& who is the future for?
who emerges post-flood
who rebuilds, repopulates
villa, glass, gate, self contained
artificial light, creator of the sun
nuclear core
my BoA app says what would you like the power to do
Mallika Singh is a poet, cook, and facilitator who writes about borders, surveillance, and intimacies. Their chapbook Retrieval is forthcoming from Wendy’s Subway this summer.
I heard that joy would come
in that prison guard’s office
the roof was leaking, an old
forgotten fern still green
& outside
every worker unwilling
every worker planting
seeds in the empty plot
seeds in the pipeline
whose land are dreams built on?
& safety?
& who is the future for?
who emerges post-flood
who rebuilds, repopulates
villa, glass, gate, self contained
artificial light, creator of the sun
nuclear core
my BoA app says what would you like the power to do
what would I like, not power, not doing
the whole poem, which was in the stem
the whole poem, which was in the dream
all parts of the body
the larynx & disappearing hands
& pollen in the ears & muscle peel & my arm
which is the shadow of the sun
wings spread, soaking in the heat
I see you, see
anything can turn
into something else
my breast to a tree to a metal piece
our body /technology/ will
drown in a canyon
press against deep lily fossils
utopic monuments will levitate
we will guide memory to our mouth