Something I've been working on for a surprising while, considering it's a poem(y-type thing); this one very much speaks to the internal conflicts I've been struggling with in the current socio-political climate with identity politics and the like. It's kind of a variation on the "home-is-where-the-heart-is" motif I delved into in countless scantly-inspired writing exercises, but this time hinging around the closing line that came to me in some burst of creative insight or another. I feel I hardly know how to write this kind of thing, so can't promise I won't come back to it at some point, but it's a narrative that I've been needing to get out of me, and this was the format that ended up presenting itself to me!..
Back when I was studying French, we had a segment on the poet Jaques Pervert, with a subsequent assignment to write a poem in his characteristic style. Lucky, inspiration decided to strike in the process, and the result was this actually-halfway-decent cutesy little thing. Includes the original French, and English translation.
I was walking home alone after some Casinath writing function late one Monsoon night, and between the creative energy still buzzing and my heightened cognisance of the theoretical lepords sharing the poorly lit paths in the rain, I was struck with the kernel of this poem. I immediately proceeded to stay up all night beating it out of the lingering remnants of inspiration, and the result is this dark, sinister little snippet into what I like to sometimes pretend on dark stormy nights are the inner workings of my mind.
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