an archaeological survey reports

the deeper you dig into someone's profile

the better preserved the cringe is

and at the bottom you might discover

puberty and desperation swimming like coelacanths.

an old friend's old picture shows him

squinting a smile through the camera glaring

against the backdrop of sun, sea, and sand.

the caption— enjoyed at the bitch.

i'm a freelance archaeologist

excavating this indian urge to

talk english, walk english... in colonial hangover.

that's what said said. or bhabha says

in his essays full of wannabe-derridean nonsense

that i still quote in my answers with such sincerity

that you might almost believe i understood it.

now that, actually, might be an example

of what bhabha termed as sly civility.

you never know when the excavation turned

into stalking, your fingers careful

not to accidentally double-tap and prove

your presence in their feed.

as i scroll up i see her evolve in front

of my eyes, i see the evolution of her eyes

and the way they look at the world.

hey, don't look at me like that or else

i'll cite you in my passive-aggressive paper

about the feminine gaze.

that'll show you, you beach.

~ ajay

10/2/2022