Three Dances
[from Godhra Poems]
In North Carolina
on the television
in my brother’s house
a silhouette
with an iPod
danced
against a background
hot pink
It took me back to Bali
and a shadow
puppet Rama
dancing
with grief and rage
on a backdrop
backlit
by an oil lamp
that a monkey
once kicked over
burning down the theater
Burning down
like Godhra
where my friend the lawyer
Shaukat Ehsan
is still dancing
in the flames
of his burning Fiat
while a mob of twenty thousand
whistle at his moves
clapping their hands
spinning their axes
Qaidi
if only we could hear the secret music
of his pain
we could spin with him
Early Warning System
[from Godhra Poems]
I knew about the riots
the night before
when I started hearing
the fireflies
phosphoresce
click
click
click
all around me in the smog of dusk
that already stank of tires
not yet burning
click
click
click
like light switches
all across our city
I tried to warn you, Qaidi
making fists
and shutting my eyes
and trying as hard as I could
but at last when my fingernails
throbbed with a pink glow
six blocks east of me
rose that monstrous
firefly
the sun
