Arun Kolatkar Poems

A low temple keeps its gods in the dark.
You lend a matchbox to the priest.
One by one the gods come to light.
...

The roof comes down on Maruti's head.
Nobody seems to mind.
...

Sweet as grapes
are the stone of jejuri
said chaitanya.
...

The spirit of the place
lives inside the mangy body
of the station dog
...

The young novice at the tea stall
has taken a vow of silence
...

This is the time of day I like best,
and this the hour
when I can call this city my own;
...

Hills
demons
sand blasted shoulders
bladed with shale
...

Fifty phantom motorcyclists

all in black

crash-helmeted outriders

faceless behind tinted visors
...

A prophet half brought down.
from the cross
a dangling martyr.
...

That's no doorstep.
its a pillar on the side.
...