Two Poems by Anu Kandikuppa

Evenings After Dinner

Sometimes, evenings after dinner
when I’m on all fours scouring
the kitchen floor with my Murphy
oil scented rag, having previously
done the dishes and before that
fed the children, paired socks like
to like, made lists: Drano eggs
oranges, all the while thinking I
don’t want to be here doing this—
sometimes I think I ought to be
more grateful to my floor. It grounds
me. It isn’t worthy of my disdain. There
isn’t much in the whole wide world
as sure as this, is there, that floors
will become dirty and need you
to clean them again? At the end of
another day straining to bring
my bashful genius to the attention
of an unconscious world I should
think it nice to be given something,
if only an obliging squeak to a
barefoot step.

Family Reunion

Four sisters, grown old
their faces converged
to their mother’s—
not in the features of course
but in the look of comical surprise
that there wasn’t going to be
more

Anu Kandikuppa has written essays, flash fiction, and short stories appearing in journals such as Colorado Review and Michigan Quarterly Review. Anu worked as an economics consultant in a former life and lives in Boston. Her website is www.anukandikuppa.com.