an ode to a diaper
a diaper is a thing of wonder
when everyone is losing control
it helps people to keep their shit together
never asking to be acknowledged
for carrying human dignity on its shoulder
discarded secretly
sanitary napkin's brother
shame's arch enemy
ableism's worst fear
a diaper is a thing of wonder
delirium
a morsel of uncooked rice falls on the ground, without making a sound, it's not water, the floor is not getting wet
grains change the pressure of the room, for each grain that falls, an invisible hand covers my nose, it's difficult to breathe
a mountain grows on the sidewall, a stranger walks through van gogh's backyard, it's probably jesus
i am on top of the mountain, my body dissolves into pieces of grain, so much grain, no one to eat, uncooked rice
i close my eyes, rain falls on my eyelids, then peels it through, the outer layer of an onion, my eyes are flooded
mother, call mother, call for help, call anyone, this is no time to die, the rice is uncooked, the earth is green
let me go home one last time
a foreign feeling
there is no vocabulary of other lands in the pictures that I paint
my passport is lost, unused from years of illness and mistrust
landscapes devour themselves in my imagination of postcards
eating away half baked honeymooners and people who travel to explore
i borrow words from books in order to build culture within me
it melts away each time there is flooding in my small town
there is culture in where I come from, they assure me again
perhaps someone living in a land far away should write about it
Abhishek Anicca is a poet, writer and researcher. He identifies as a person with disability and chronic illness. When not telling personal stories from his life, he writes on gender, politics and culture. Find his work here: https://muckrack.com/abhishek-anicca-1/portfolio