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POETRY
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Selecting a Shirt
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A Date
with a Lesbian
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Rama
Reddy at Route 13
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Civilization
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Carbon-based Life
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Molecule from Parsippany
SCIENCE FICTION
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Beamriders
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What Frank Saw in the Parking Lot
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Azoospermia
OTHER
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Report from Pune
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Beer
Party in the Heavens
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Jenny at the Taj
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A Change of Clothes
OBITUARY
Fictioneer par Excellence
Email Milind Padki
(remove spaces)
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Rama Reddy at Route 13
Rama Reddy mans the shop at the Amoco
Gas Station. It’s one pm in night shift and
across the road a dozen princesses sit
kissing a dozen frogs at the Hungry Duck
where the night is young still.
Cars whoosh by on the asphalt, puddles explode,
drops glitter in the
Yellow fluorescent streetlights.
Rama stares out at a most unReddy world.
UnReddy the moonlight,
unReddy the Princesses in black leather, their pale
white shoulder bones protruding
from under the leather thongs, unReddy
The deranged black person who just walked in
looking for change and whom,
Striving for poetry, Rama has already dubbed a robber’s accomplice
just out of jail. This is semi-exciting but unReddy to Rama,
who will not give her change.
Tall Black Man and Short White Man walk in.
Their black truck parked just outside is still purring
and this is evil and unReddy for Rama,
both scared and happy that he does not have a gun. “Yes, Buddy!”
Rama greets them loudly
while cars whoosh by on the asphalt, puddles explode,
drops glitter in the Yellow fluorescent streetlights. UnReddy
the moonlight, unReddy the Princesses in black leather,
their pale white shoulder bones protruding
from under the leather thongs.
“Shut up and open the safe, quick!”
Short White Man says, the black gun just out of his coat pocket
and its gleam and its heft is unReddy
as is Tall Black Man holding the door semi-open
as cars whoosh by on the asphalt, puddles explode, drops glitter in the
Yellow fluorescent streetlights.
“Please don’t hurt me" is unReddy, as is
the eight hundred three dollars and seventy five cents
duly insured, changing hands
and the final yank at the telephone cord. All this
Is unReddy as is the roar of the Big Black Truck and
the sitting down quaking, wiping sweat from the forehead.
After the irate owner and the blasé’ policemen have left
the wife arrives and the are you okay-jee in Telugu and
the sambar rice slowly make for a Reddy world for a very short
while,
while across the road a dozen princesses
sit kissing a dozen frogs at the Hungry Duck
where the night is young still.
(Levittown, PA 12/04/04)
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