There are silverfish bugs across the window sill
in the white house. He says: my name is Jug Dish,
and you are pointing west when you say dish-desh
and you are taking a stab when you say jug-Jag.
However, the name is Indian. Point west, take a stab.
This is my house. I am a child. He is Jug Dish.
We are an Indian family with Indian friends from lndia.
Jug Dish studies English poetry.
I study English poetry.
I point west to take a stab at a silverfish.
The mountain of ink is paint,
there is memory, here,
for friends of the Indian community.
The next window we will be looking out
of is Jodhpur, where Jug Dish lives.
The first part of that word, yes,
it is as serious to pronounce as taking
up your first job. ‘Pur' as in spur-as in the mythical cowboy
(an Indian Cowboy). Family, please, hand me over to that silverfish.