Ramesh Dohan poet and short fiction writer hailing from the city of Vancouver. Works have previously appeared in South Ocean Review, Taj Mahal Review, Word Salad, Hudson Review, Attic Magazine and Reflections.
Taking down pictures
Moving out of my father's house
Taking the down the photos
Little holes in the wall
Like the footprints
Of an animal in the snow
That didn't get very far
Gypsy love
She left
with her toothbrush
and underpants,
a note to follow
Later chapters are stained with tears
and have small ears.
Between scented pages,
where I pressed my shriveled husk,
my eyes, still open, stare wildly,
I rent a sultry shack where I'll sing
rhythm and blues.
She'll return, come back, reunite -
be mine again but I won't be the same.
Lace multiplies in my hands
as I waltz my tale
onto the streets
under an indifferent moon.
Courtesan Dreams
Gieza combs
the water of the long
wave of her black
hair, toes just
edging out
from the pool of
kimono around
her quivering feet
Morning Love
four in the morning
a world suspended
between the shy night
and a bridal dawn
your hand reaches
my body
travels hills
and hollows
awakens desires
your touch
fuels my dreams
I fuse into you
drinking
from your lips
my body drapes
around you
tangled and
seeking
Dining in Kowloon
The cook makes the sauce- "Shua"!
hot pot encounters cold tomato
homeland. A tiny spot of
memory bitter like tea leaves clings
to the worn spoon.
Scarlet ribbon wrappings layer over layer,
way beyond exotic.
They are handing out menus again.
In and out, practice the union
of east and west. You
stand outside the door
waiting for that man
to walk out of your heart.
