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Rorschach Returns to Me - Kushal Poddar

and I try to let the Rorschach test reveal a happy memory.

Some days are pins. Most are hay.

At this moment I know if I stare at anything long enough it will sing- a black canary whose owner takes Prozac with timely Ecstacies, and my eyes water recalling a tune my mother smothered my sleep in- oh yeah!

“A butterfly” I tell the doctor. The next inkblot is a rope hardened with fats from someone dead’s lifetime. (C) Kushal Poddar 2019

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