Remember Reminder Remains

In the praying mantis hidden under the pansy-faced blooms of the autumn
sage, a part of me. On the black stone of the kitchen counter, remnants of my
DNA. In the masala chicken for dinner, the oil of my skin, the oil of the onion,
the sweat of the mustard seeds. In the sky, the mimicking of birds in flight, we
trail fumes from planes in which I dreamed. In the ocean, eel remnants of
what was not consumed, waiting for the floating omnivores of the world.
In my head, a lightning flash brighting my childhood bedroom the day we
burned my mother. Of the head: small star, the light of memories burning
dendrite and neuron to keep alive what has already gone, all the dead.

---

---

A tenured professor at the City University of New York’s John Jay College of Criminal Justice, Sanjana Nair’s poetry has appeared in various journals ranging from Spoon River Poetry Review to Fence Magazine. Deeply invested in collaboration, her work has been performed at Tribeca’s Flea Theater and featured on National Public Radio’s Soundcheck. She has performed at Barnes & Noble in NYC’s Union Square to the Rubin Museum. She resides in Virginia with her family.