Woman takes a bus in India

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  Here's a poem I wrote about taking the bus in India, which got left out of the collection 'Sips...,' unfortunately.
  
  TOO CLOSE
  
  I
  My parents, landed with luggage
  In the lurching bus, handed me
  Over the jammed bodies
  To the seated conductor.
  The blue-uniformed, paan-chewing
  Dispenser of tickets, keeper
  Of a bag full of jingling change,
  Held my three-year-old body
  Locked between his knees
  As he ripped off a ticket
  To Paris or Moore Market,
  And blew a whistle in my ear.
  
  II
  I leave a laugh at the doorstep
  And plunge my body sixteen
  Between the backside of a fat woman
  And the violence of a thousand rearing men
  Who plough into a city bus, every hour
  On the hour, to sow their bulletin.
  
  The numb, dumb anger
  Of a thousand sournesses
  Raise head and spear this body.
  They grind and grind like teeth
  In a fever of sleep,
  And the hot release of stoppered sex
  Scalds me again and again,
  As the bus jerks to its destination.

SI LEEDS shortlist

I've been shortlisted for the SI Leeds prize for Black and Asian Women, for my collection of short stories, 'The Weekend For Sex.'

Check out my bio and read an extract from the title story (also check out the competition):

http://sileedsliteraryprize.wordpress.com/news/meet-our-shortlisted-writers/http://sileedsliteraryprize.wordpress.com/news/meet-our-shortlisted-writers/