Kaleem Hawa

Kaleem Hawa



The Bengal

I hear there are things we are supposed to write about, soft touches, and meaningful looks, and Her!, but I don’t have it, he’s lithe, he’s tortured, he’s in the sun, I swelter and seethe, he’s iridescent, thrusting, I’m typing, she’s moaning, but now I’m Hurt!, and the tears are in her eyes, and the look of recognition and understanding and longing, of course, and the youth spills out and we rejoice in that soaked commons, symphony and sunset, petroleum leaking out of every pore, lit pure passion immolate, now I’m iridescent, and we swelter and seethe and type something worth writing about.





KALEEM HAWA writes about film and books. He is the most recent winner of The White Review Poet’s Prize.