I have not eaten the plums nor has my daughter. The mangoes win, gluttonous yellow, plump with scathing summers, childhood’s innocence, moist memories of dead grandmothers, bellowing grandfathers, the sweet homesickness, a sticky dribble on the chin. The plums are prudish, slow to ripen, a bit stiff, in the back of the fridge, they are not delicious or sweet though cold, I admit. Your plums Carlos, Where do they come from? |
U S H A A K E L L A
Usha Akella has authored three books of poetry and scripted one musical drama. She was a cultural ambassador for the city of Austin for 2015, and is the founder of Matwaala, the first South Asian Diaspora Poets Festival in the US.
She is also the founder of the Poetry Caravan in New York and Austin, which takes poetry readings to the disadvantaged in women’s shelters, senior homes, and hospitals. Read Usha's conversation with Nandini about her chapbook and working on FIVE. |
