Direction can bamboozle me
An autist mind thinks different
As if in a maze, so divergent
Can his thoughts be
Getting lost so often
Every new place seems alien
Looking to trap you
Till you lose yourself
From asking for directions
To seeing shakes of heads
Losing hope due to inaction
Not getting any leads
Especially when it's south Mumbai
I hop on to a bus
As it goes on and on, I cuss
Wishing I were back in Chennai
Predictably I get down at the wrong stop
Greeted by a run-down lane
I was early, now late
My panic rises to the top
As taxi-wallahs say no
Even as I give various landmarks
I wonder where shall I go
I am clearly in the dark
I see a gentleman in a car
Probably my last hope
I plead for help
Thus apparently lowering my bar
The gentleman offers a drop
Which I gladly accept
A big relief in this heat
As the ride comes to a stop
He says we will meet later
Since he stays in my locality
In him I saw a lot of humanity
As my day suddenly got better
I had got the inspiration
For writing my next poem
In such an interesting fashion

What is the sound of a silent heart
Isolated in cold scalpel bruises
Carterized by abandonment
Autistic hearts
Feeling emotion without the correct faces
Muscles that can't dance
Blood that is blueshell and breathless
Uncooked lobster hearts
Amazing how a heart screams as it is submerged
Suspended room tempature in a sensory deprivation tank
Left of center

Slip, slip, slip to the brink,
they imagine you're dancing.
Freeze there, they see proof of control.

Choke out a few words?
Then you're lying.
Stay silent? Well, then you're a fraud.

Slip, slip, slip to the brink,
and I'll join you.
Freeze there, and I'll keep you safe.

Choke out a few words?
Then I'll listen.
Stay silent? Then baby, I'll wait.

The doctor is good. The doctor is powerful. You must believe everything you tell him. He loves you. He knows that you, and you alone, are hurting. He'll be donating money. He'll be working with your burden. He'll be keeping it dumb. The doctor, as well as you, don't like gun violence and 20 kids dead. No, the doctor knows how to keep you burden crippled and lame. Simply put, it will obey and be rewarded for when it obeys.

Sandals slapping ******* glued stone,
Sun hitting hard soaking my clothes,
I like to pretend Im alone,
Empty houses vacant windows.
Dog **** smell wafts from my plastic bag
Scraped from a  carefully manicured lawn

Dog pants pull me from bush to bush,
Past awkward neighbors with no eyes,
Cant talk now, always in a rush
Another encounter to despise.
The trees could take the houses back over
Birds bees and deer make for good company.

My boy is four and loves the dirt,
He loves to smell the sunflowers,
Pulls them from heaven down to earth,
To softly imbibe their powers.
I stop for a minute and bow to them
And breathe their delicate blessing as long as I can.