Poems by
Pradyumna Panikker


a poem by Pradyumna Panikker

He lay against the aging wall of a garret,
His fingers scrape across the canvas,
A charcoal stick uncrushed,
His brushes, drained of their ability to bleed
A plastic heart that could never beat to its own rhythm,
And an evanescent muse,
Whose worth was realized a little too late