Amit Parmessur (Mauritius)

Amit Parmessur (Mauritius)
Amit Parmessur (1983) is a poet and teacher. He has been published in several magazines, print and online. A Pushcart Prize and Best of the Web nominee, he lives in Mauritius. As long as he gets published, he knows he is on the right track. In 2003, he won one of Scoop The Loot’s writing competitions by The Short Humour Site. Nowadays, he edits The Pangolin Review.
Drawing circles like a schoolgirl on the
blanket with her finger, she soon detects
black ants along the wall, and becomes a
traffic cop mad at disobedient
vehicles. With her white hair tangled in
neglect, she soon turns into a smiling
tyrant who tosses swear words like macro*
and bobok** at us all. She watches the
same soap opera thrice a day at the
expense of her medicine. At night, she
harangues her daughters, forgetting they
are abroad; she opens the window for
fresh air and forgets to close. Talking to
me on the phone while I’m on the campus,
she asks when I’ll be back by her side. If
I ask to talk to my mother she lays
down the receiver discreetly to look
for her but I’m left waiting. I’ve lost love
and respect for her. I think the robe of
death has bundled her brave skull up. The once
great soul’s gone; this one has reinvented
the people around and I’m among the
strangers she does not trust. Now, the pregnant
past dwells in a fully-bent spoon, and an
oily comb with her muddy fingerprints.
* dumbass
** cheated man
Our Breakup
You have been the sweet midwife to my tears;
And my new partner is heir to my woe,
my aged face. Each day’s cruel ruefulness.
You have been the sweet midwife to my tears—
I shall treasure my love and your lessons.
My soul abhors the false hopes your ghosts show;
You have been the sweet midwife to my tears
And my new partner is heir to my woe!

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