Delhi 1972

The Loo, a 120 degree wind off the Rajasthani desert

Baking me like a slow roast chicken inside the suit, inside the taxi, inside a lusty traffic tangle

I am transfixed by what I have just discovered

Just behind my nose, reaching back to the center of my brain, someone has turned on the freezer

Very odd

I am numb, frosted

A little higher, behind my forehead, crystals refract light - pure, unborn, uneverything

I would tell my teacher if he was here

Where did he go?

by John Evans