Long saris swim in the span of space across deep valleys between
Brick and cement five story buildings
Scaffolding made of bamboo.
Hands did this.
Sand colored walls tinted with moldish black
Humid days seasoned with petrol.
Barefeet women, gold rings on toes,
They weave garlands of jasmine flowers for Siva
squatting in the street with everything else.
A one armed man walks
Whose sunken milky eye waivers side to side
offers his open hand to me.
Sacred cows eat garbage flowing from tipped dumpsters.
Sacred is the peacock
Blue of Sky,
Dirt under her fingernails,
Scent of the canal,
The crooked and toothless smile of the ancient woman who
sold me the papaya this morning.