In the bar
by Varun U. Shetty
By the tracks
an orphan building stands-
the air is still,
charged with ammonia.
In and out
through the dark stalls
men wander and wait
and hold and cum-
I run
out toward the light.
The slow one, I am
tossed and punched.
Slowly, the pain withers-
no one sees
the bruise on my back or
the shame in my bones.
Almost 9000 miles away,
it is humid-
the bar at Burgundy and St. Ann
is dark:
I burn fear with vodka, I take
a whiff of sweat. And piss-
that sharp smell has shed
its consequence.
He’s on his knees,
he’s on his back,
and he- his mouth is full,
he can barely breathe.
In a dimly lit sea
of inebriated darkness
I inhale, I touch, I learn
a naked, pungent freedom.
Author Bio
Varun U. Shetty (he/him) is a writer and intensivist. He grew up in Mumbai and lives with his two partners and dog in Shaker Heights. His work has previously been published in The Wire, Olney Magazine, The Bangalore Review, and Goa Today.
