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Pondicherry
By Paul Cameron Brown
Chess pieces resting upon the jade
mantle piece
see sampans move quietly
thru warm night,
rich bundles of bougainvillea
crowd market squares
where deck chairs extend
to the Persian Gulf.
Leisured gentlemen
finger walking canes,
hold eyelids thick as goblets,
sharp tridents beside private lairs.
Skin in puffy whiteness bulges under
lamp's white glare, becomes copra
gathered
miles from Pondicherry, sesame oil
in rotting casks.
And the Indian heat, closing with
certitude
akin to the trance of the snake
charmer,
holds his flute poised with the
Bengali lancer
riding a slow crop over the prostrate
polo ball.
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