where’s this splace

what’s where’s this place this space this place, you ask, having once lived in water, kicking & dreaming, then on one daybreak dropped from planet uterus, yes, the planet that you can never go back to. now all grown up, an uprooted plant from earth, acrophobic, you do not do the sulking & screaming anymore, but your cognitive dissonance is obvious from your frequent wtf is this & wtf is that. stranded in a rubber plantation one dusk you catch yourself speaking suddenly in fluent malayalam. where’s this place. lost in thar desert another noon you surprise yourself speaking in rajastani. how else can one with an indelible inedible, errrrrr, how else can one with an incredibly unreliable gps get out from this taut and/or vast where’s what’s this place. you, latent antinatalist, speak this & that tongue, belong to this & that caste, this & that faith, but you’re neither this nor that. you either speak sense or nonsense, you say, speaking both & more in where’s this place. you’re positively certain that one can never be saved in where’s this splace. but, well, yes, feuerbach & periyar know who cannot save you. not khrist & not crishna. marx knows what cannot & what might save us. body & not soul. and phule & ambedkar know who & what enslaved you. save & not enslave. not kingdom, but freedom. your freedom & our freedom. not slay, but save. no heaven, but there’s dignity. there’s no soul, but sanity. not death, but freedom. not wealth, but liberty, egality & solidarity. freedom & not kingdom. freedom, dum da de de dum freedom & freedom. dropped from planet uterus, yes, us avarnas, safely in this unsafe where’s what’s this place where’s this space.


May There Be Maybe

Standing appalled at the edges
of our slippery individualist
shells carefreely we pluck
gods & goddesses
out of their ahistoric trees
We consume all our gods
raw for good & sow
their seeds
deep within historical
cons, texts & contexts
The historic trees
take root & bear
ungods & ungoddesses
& then (what were we
thinking) they begin
to uncreate by undefining
whatever that was created

May there be yes

‘Yes, I am’ say
the humans &
the ungods say
‘No, I am not’

Let there be no

The social animals
say ‘Are we not’
& ‘No, we are’
say the ungoddesses

Let there be maybe

deserts &
every single life form
dwelling within them
(& the ones dwelling in
concrete forests as well)
say ‘Are we maybe’
& ‘We certainly are’
say the social animals

May there be afterthought

Just as the ungods &
ungoddesses carefreely uncreate
we having shed our stiff
individualist shells
& having formed our
elastic collectivist fluidy
social animalist selves
carefully recreate by
reundefining whatever was
undefined & uncreated

They say may there be
unthought & we say
let there be forethought

They say for instance
perched on the cob-leaved
palmwebbed moonshade
‘Hiya’ caw
the house crows
to the ants spraying
out cold spring water
into infertile lands

& to that we say
perched on the cobwebbed
palm-leaved sunshade
‘Hiya’ caw
the houseless sparcrows
to the eleph-ants spraying
out hot & cold river water
allotted to carbonating giants
but forbidden to farmers
into water-starved croplands

They say let there be
uninjustice & we say
let there be justice

May there be
beings may there
be let there be let
there be Be let there be
be Let there Be
Let there be
May there

be May there be May
there be Let there
be May there
be Be
May there be
May there be Let
there be becomings

Ahimaz Rajessh (@ahimaaz) has been published recently with Paint Bucket, Big Echo: Critical SF, Speculative 66, formercactus, Dream Pop Press and MoonPark Review. He lives in the Union of India.

Image banner: Quarterly journal of microscopical science, 1853 via The Internet Archive