THE WOMAN WHO SPEAKS TO MILK POTS

BY MENKA SHIVDASANI

Boil.
I shall ignore
that steely glint
and watch you.

I am simmering too,
padding about
with cotton ball claws,
arching my back
before the flickering
flame, scratching
behind my ear.

You’ve got the cream,
melded into every drop.
I will bide my time
till you separate,
and strain you
through wire mesh.

I’m on edge now; about
to overflow. Don’t sit
so self-contained,
snow-white and cold.

I shall turn the heat up,
put the lid on.

Watch me.

 

Originally appeared here : Poetry at Sangam 

Nominated by : The Poetry Mail

Comment: We are glad to have selected this poem for your reading. At some level this ‘talking of the woman with the milk pot’ is a representative  of the various social, political  and religious  atrocities that continue to  smother people in our so called ‘modern India’. Enjoy the slice!


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