Tipper Lorry Poems | Examples

Before the Death Rattle

Once rice plants in golden
frocks danced on my lap. 
And I was proud.

Now the weeds dry my
veins.

Once reapers, bending like
the sickles, lulled me with
their bucolic songs. And I
 snoozed under the paddy
 fragrance.

Now I wake up frightened
by the ‘profit – talks’.

Once the ecstatic moon
rose above the rhythms of 
the night. Moonlight was so
charming with some
 magnetic eyes. And I held 
my chest as a stage for your
dancers and singers.

Now your nostalgia is
twined around me.

Once the monsoon hid me
deep under the water – 
fishes and frogs enjoyed
their carnival. And I was 
tickled by the floating 
canoes.

Now an architect stares at
me. A tipper lorry vomits
the sand and stones on my
face. I die leaving a furrow 
in your mind.


[First published in Off the Coast, US]