Beer After Heartbreak
He poses like a peacock, his wingspan
electric and glorious in the absence of wings.
The hues on his face, sylvan shifting
in muffled laughter mingled with the blond
of the day’s snug sunshine make
it a perfect day for beer. He says I’m all good,
whatever happens happens for the good. I wonder
if this was first proclaimed in the Gita.
In the hour’s verve, I credit him his adage.
He buys for me, pint after pint at Bangalore’s finest
brewery, the rooftop bar adding to the altitude
of daytime intoxication. Having called in sick
to work, I enjoy the process of turning sick with froth,
our bladders barreling ale, lager, even the moisture
of faint grief. As the sky dims towards evening,
our conversation descends into somber mourning.
Dusk unmoors his eyeballs into infinite caves
as he mutters, I loved her so much. At the end
of the next hour and the twelfth Why,
at the surgical propensity of his troubled
imagination, at the surge of the feared realization
of long agony- how will I ever get over this? –
we depart, his eyes the kind of red which would
remind you of roses if they weren’t eyes.
Of course on the way back, I do think once
about telling him, nobody really gets over anybody.
But then I don’t because I fear explaining
how it’s a blessing we’re frequently overcome
by pearl laden waves of forgetfulness.
Satya Dash reads “Beer After Heartbreak”
Satya Dash is the recipient of the Srinivas Rayaprol Poetry Prize for 2020. His poems appear in Waxwing, Wildness, Redivider, Passages North, The Boiler, The Florida Review, Prelude, and The Journal among others. Apart from having a degree in electronics from BITS Pilani-Goa, he has been a cricket commentator too. He has been nominated previously for Orison Anthology, Best of the Net and Best New Poets. He grew up in Cuttack, Odisha and now lives in Bangalore. He tweets at: @satya043