Churning Poem by Diptesh Augustine Sarkar

Once my brother fell ill
two and half year old
ceased to toddle one evening;
They took him to a doctor
with a beautiful wife
a mermaid among men
for elves of the playground...

He wrote many cures
of them a bottle
stood out among
the rest—
a small pint of
sweet smelling emulsion
strong and chalky—
coated the tongue
and its colour
faint purple-pink
doused the eyes
and filled the hollows
and we would feel
like puking...

Been so many years now
well above two score and ten
a wet afternoon of purple-pink
and feeling nausea again...