“There’s a Reason” by Tejas Ranade


A man lies against the sewer of the town -
He's throwing up his tears on the fluid
pavement, saying how he's fallen down
the drain, down like the rain, and found
there a penny to sustain him again,
as metallic as the

clicking ticking of time bomb boots
against the river of concrete flowing
like bare bones finger of a maestro,
his cataract movements slowing down
the tubas and trombones
like the rain, and found
a penny to frame on his wall,

look what I've done, Ma,
brand new coin, enveloped in
a membrane of oxygen, sealed off
so it can barely breathe against
the asphalt grinding closer and closer
to it, infinite loop spurred on by
the instruments clambering onto
one another, the epicenter of
Nero's fur as he lights on fire
and tells the violins to keep playing
until the sun won't shine again.

There will be a mumbling tonight
amid the peasants, their backs parallel
to the clouds on which angels roll
lazily like waves bobbing against
a burgeoning ocean; it is foretold
by the skies darkening in anger
and foreboding once more.

Too much wind blotting against
the sky and making room for the moon -
"make way!" the chariot screams,
recklessly snapping forward the grizzled
horses as they thunder their hooves
toward a lightning rod in the sky,
golden and torpid, sluggishly
staying in place, while

we turn and we flow like so much
sidewalk drizzled on by the tears
of happiness of those above, so
joyous they'd drown us all like so
many thrall chained to the natural father -
and farther they flee,
and farther from sight,

There will be a revolt tonight.