The City Opposite Nineveh

Abstract

The City Opposite Nineveh Varun Ravindran (bio) Keywords Varun, Ravindran, San Francisco, harbor, sea, variations, rivers Pier 7, San Francisco Then came the white sisters clappingto the waves' progress,and that was Emancipation— jubilation, O jubilation—vanishing swiftlyas the sea's lace dries in the sun… Derek Walcott VARIATION ONE Lovely as milk, smooth as a knell,bodiless and made of breaths,a blue bed of pollen, lace, mesh, the sea ranlike a prayered tongue, the wavesshining where they fell like eyes of needles. VARIATION TWO The sea around the bridge: streaks of wet pastelsmudged on or between delaminated glass.Sound of one hand clapping, the sea of commas. The sea tarnished beneath the cliff.It marbled and fleeced and breathedjasmine unravelling in a skittish wind. VARIATION THREE The sea was drying its lacesin the sun. The bored windnosed one corner of translucent [End Page 237] paper. From the pier, threelines went down into the brassysea which shone in belted buckles. VARIATION FOUR The sea heavy as a trombone.Out of this sea the man yankeda long silver fish which glared and shook and shone. Another man readingThe New YorkTimes brought homehis line invisible in the sun. Bodies in the glare were dark commas on the bench.In Mosul, said the paper, the garbagemen have againstarted work and rake through human remains. VARIATION FIVE The whipping marbling fleecing sea drovewind up my nostrils.My body in the glare was a bead the wind and the light threaded the wind crept back out the mouth of methe light blew throughthe singing gaps of me. The wind crept back out the mouthsof two of me with the seaslaughtering between them the light blew throughthe singing gapsof them. One buckled butthe other wassinging— [End Page 238] VARIATION SIX The other was singing, buckling:O lovely in milk, in wreaths,lovely in breaths, the sea shivers like a prayered tongue—jubilation,O jubilation, vanishing swiftly,as the sea dries its laces in the sun drying in the sun the refuse of faces facesnot there no longer therewhere the sea was where I was on a bent green benchholding and pouringa singing where I was— VARIATION SEVEN Where I was wasMosul.Where I was was Mosul by the TigrisMosul the GreenMosul Mosul the PearlMosulMosul the Remaining City steeped in stink and human remains.But where an I waswas all the waves. [End Page 239] VARIATION EIGHT Burl of the gnarled greensea in its milkskins, beneath the bridgewrinkling like grapeskin. Where I was, all the waves.Each falling into the sea.Each a knock-kneed lamb. [End Page 240] Varun Ravindran varun ravindran was born in India and lives in Pittsburgh. Copyright © 2021 The Massachusetts Review, Inc.