Ashish Premkumar
Nimrod is Waiting

nimrod built us a tower—
                he, lost in his black ocean—
he built us our imposing language
out of the rotting fish lying in haymarket and the thick seawater
running across the jaw-wide rims of his shoulder blades.

he warbled as he built,
shouting out in negative verse,
shaking the bone out of words
so that they tumbled across the ground as easily as spilled milk.

in his head,
we chant to one another,
heaving our thoughts like waves onto his inky shoreline.
we sit dumb with one another
as his moonwhite teeth shine.

nimrod is waiting
for the sea to rise,
he is waiting for the river to flood,
for our skin to get darker
in preparation for
                his unintelligible kingdom.

at night,
lying janus-faced across his bed,
he dreams of hell,
his thoughts casting no shadow on his open dresser drawer.

Samson, the Beekeeper
                                     for a.e.m.

panting after the fight,
he lays to one side and pockets his bruised hands,
his knuckles licked clean.

blood and dust settle on the road,
and mud rises up, red and thick.
all your kind cover your kisses just for samson,
the slayer of beasts, a well-intentioned man.

the bees made honey in the dead lion’s chest,
flaring out their yellow candlelight
through the caged embrace of bony fingers, rounded gently.

he had built this savage palace (he, in control of all things).
you stand with him,
insects weaving in thick, jaundiced blankets around your head.
true love waits, you said, for samson, the beekeeper.

Scheherazade Grows Restless

my hands float into my pockets when i watch my manners,
when she walks around the corner.
my words turn on themselves when she looks at me,
burying their shame in my wool coat.
she keeps her kind to herself—
no one apologizes, no one says anything.

i remember her restless in the morning,
working her legs back and forth under the bed sheets
like she was treading water—
her face slowly swallowed in a mediterranean wilderness
that curled back and forth.

_ _

Ashish Premkumar is a fourth-year student at Boston University, working toward a dual BA/MD. degree in medical science. These days, he listens to Graceland and Tim on repeat.

<< Back to Issue 13, 2009