Ramesh Dohan poet and short fiction writer hailing from the city of Vancouver. Works have previously appeared in S outh Ocean Review, Taj Mahal Review, Word Salad, Hudson Review, Attic Magazine and Reflections .
Taking down pictures Moving out of my father's house Taking the down the photos Little holes in the wall Like the footprints Of an animal in the snow That didn't get very far Gypsy love She left with her toothbrush and underpants, a note to follow Later chapters are stained with tears and have small ears. Between scented pages, where I pressed my shriveled husk, my eyes, still open, stare wildly, I rent a sultry shack where I'll sing rhythm and blues. She'll return, come back, reunite - be mine again but I won't be the same. Lace multiplies in my hands as I waltz my tale onto the streets under an indifferent moon. Courtesan Dreams Gieza combs the water of the long wave of her black hair, toes just edging out from the pool of kimono around her quivering feet Morning Love four in the morning a world suspended between the shy night and a bridal dawn your hand reaches my body travels hills and hollows awakens desires your touch fuels my dreams I fuse into you drinking from your lips my body drapes around you tangled and seeking Dining in Kowloon The cook makes the sauce- "Shua"! hot pot encounters cold tomato homeland. A tiny spot of memory bitter like tea leaves clings to the worn spoon. Scarlet ribbon wrappings layer over layer, way beyond exotic. They are handing out menus again. In and out, practice the union of east and west. You stand outside the door waiting for that man to walk out of your heart.