A pallid
sheet of paper
teases me
with its randy glare,
pellucid, parched
and humid gaze of a widow
Related story
In Chitwan, youth entrepreneurs are producing paper from elepha...
craving for my poetic semen
to fill its womb.
Its wary eyes
expose suspicion
forged by
the calm of an empty street
and as persistent stains
from the wet cups and glasses
at the local tea stalls
in the narrow lanes of the Mangal Bazaar,
it has dappled my heart for life.
But barren paper,
who would whisper in your ears?
Hunger and poetry
cannot stay in the same hut.
-1765616104-1765618344.webp)
-1200x560_20230315105629.jpg)
-1765616104.webp)
