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My City, Gen-Next, Slammed

Tiring suburb

On a drowsy and frenetic evening My brain gets stuck by wordings Maybe someday I feel it chases words like a chess player, Crazily yearning for a queen piece.
By Sauravi Regmi

On a drowsy and frenetic evening

My brain gets stuck by wordings

Maybe someday I feel it chases

words like a chess player,

Crazily yearning for a queen piece.


Out the glass door

Working people rush to their unsettling homes,

carrying along with them office hangover that doesn't seem to get over easily

It seems that they are hypnotized

by this tiring suburb.


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I grab myself a mug of dark black coffee

and a bowl of popped up popcorn,

romanticizing myself like a James Bond desperate to flirt with

lovelies.


I feel fortunate

with my loving mother, who

fulfills my every single desire

and I will have to barely

Bury my face, inside the cold room

and sob contemplating about

The depressing future,

during this pandemic.

 

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