This is the first of many that will sound
the same, driven by the same pulse
of minds contemplating changing, but
then believing that the end cannot be near,
and anyway will be stately, serene, smooth,
ignoring the riptide of permanent anxiety
in their bellies, the last tide they – we – will
be able to dodge; inevitable gurgling predictability
replaced by a static, choking confusion –
still ponds kill less romantically than waves do.
Water carries melodies better we’ve found,
and echo chambers do break down. Refrains repeat:
If we aim for the infinite, maybe we’ll win the sky.
If we aim for the universe, maybe we won’t die.
from Neptune’s Projects by Rishi Dastidar.
Published by Nine Arches Press in April 2023.
Copyright © 2023 by Rishi Dastidar.
Poem chosen by Emilia Mirazchiyska