Brown Skin
by Srila Munukutla
Case Western Reserve University
Srila Munukutla is a student at Case Western Reserve University, originally from Chicago. She is majoring in medical anthropology with minors in creative writing and biology, and will graduate in Spring 2027. She writes poetry and short fiction, and performs spoken word exploring themes of community, memory, and cultural identity rooted in her Indian heritage. Her work has appeared in Lodestar Lit Volume IV and Case Reserve Review.
they say mushrooms grow
where things go to die
in dark, damp corners
the air stagnant with neglect
they call them dirty
use words like kukkurmutta — dog piss
gobar chatta — dung umbrella
their brown skin long refused
told they don’t belong
but no one talks about
what happens when heat meets them
how they guzzle butter
how garlic embeds itself
how salt coaxes sweetness
from decay
sliced thin, they roast
shy of the center plate
restrained in muted colors
a grainy finish
atop the tongue
tasting of rain and warmth
of muddy forests after storms
if you give them a chance
they’ll fill your mouth
with a quiet richness
that stays
long after you’ve swallowed
Interview with the Poet
1. What inspired you to start writing poetry? Are there any specific poets or writers that inspire you to write?
I’ve been fascinated by poetry for as long as I can remember. I wrote rhyming poems and song lyrics as early as kindergarten, and over time, poetry became a place to hold my memories and make sense of complex emotions. I later discovered spoken word, which made me love poetry differently because it transformed writing into a shared experience beyond the page. Some of the writers and poets who inspire me are Jhumpa Lahiri, Ocean Vuong, Mary Oliver, and Rita Dove. I am also deeply inspired by my family, especially the lineage of women whose stories, sacrifices, and strength continue to shape my work.
2. What is the biggest challenge in your creative process?
One challenge I struggle with is knowing how culturally specific to make a poem without confusing the reader. There’s a delicate balance between including enough context and not overexplaining. I’ve worked on making my poetry accessible to readers from different backgrounds without diluting it. I’ve also become bolder when writing about my culture, religion, and growing up Indian-American in the Midwest, rather than softening my work to be more socially acceptable.
3. Is there a reoccurring or central theme to your work?
I’m often inspired by the small, ordinary interactions and everyday moments that stir an emotional reaction. I tend to write about the people in my life, the memories I can’t seem to forget, and the dreams I don’t dare say aloud. My work typically draws on my cultural identity, community, and feminism.
4. What do you think are important elements in effective, thought-provoking poems?
I think thought-provoking poems are rooted in specificity. A poem becomes more powerful when it gives the reader something concrete to hold onto, like a smell, a texture, or a gesture. Vivid details can tap into larger memories that extend beyond the experience being described.
Strong poems also recognize that clarity does not always require explanation. Especially in poems tied to cultural experience, it can be more effective to pull back and let imagery, metaphor, and form carry the emotional weight. Not every detail has to be resolved; sometimes the space between the lines is just as important. A good poem invites the reader in without forcing them toward one interpretation.
5. What role do you think poetry plays in our society today?
Poetry is an opportunity to express ourselves in a way that commands attention but also asks for patience. It allows us to communicate experiences that might otherwise go unheard and gives permanence to ordinary moments. In a world with so many ways to feel disconnected, poetry reminds us that we are all still undeniably and deeply human. I think the best poetry encourages us to slow down, be present, and sit with what is uncomfortable or unfamiliar. Sometimes, its role is simply to make us listen, to make us feel, and to help us appreciate what we may not fully understand.