How the Search Ended
Before the bus flattened me,
I was searching for a scent
Never to be remembered
Until it was smelled again.
My fault not the driver’s:
I had stopped to stare at a girl
Undressing in her window.
I was too far to smell her.
Earlier, I had visited a palm reader,
Not to trace my lifeline, merely
To discover where to buy
An oversize neon hand.
On the way home, my head jangled
With a premise: Life is either more or less
Serious than I imagine it to be.
And then came the bus.
Spangling the Sea is reprinted from Instrumentality (Cherry Grove Collections, an imprint of Word Press, 2004)
Poem, copyright © 2004 by Ravi Shankar
Appearing on From the Fishouse with permission
Audio file, copyright © 2005, From the Fishouse