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Poetry / DS Maolalai

‘Somebody’s Blood’ &
‘Slow Detail’

Issue 3. January 15, 2022


merging in traffic

to fast and deliberate

music. sun on my cheek

through the open car

window, on my knuckles

like somebody's

blood. the world is a ball;

from an angle it pivots

beneath me. from others it doesn't

but mine's the perspective

I see. riding on the motorway,

I bend unto road-

circled city. the M50

lashes – my wheels drag the whip

into crack.




the primary fear

shared by all of us;

that the mind will go

long before the body.

my grandmother,

lost around every

corner. a kid

at a parade

chasing a floating



and differently too

is how

we deal with it.

my aunt

does sudokus

and my dad

learns foreign languages.

my brother

and sister and I

don't think about it

yet. for a long time

my uncle

didn't visit. now she's dead

and he'll continue

doing that.


fear; the mind going

until you don't know

mind is going. and we're prone

to bad anxiety

because we think about

our minds. becoming useless,

like statues

made of sandstone. how the rain

washes slow

detail away.






DS Maolalai has been nominated nine times for Best of the Net and five times for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been released in two collections, "Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden" (Encircle Press, 2016) and "Sad Havoc Among the Birds" (Turas Press, 2019).

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