New Road


I am going to New Road

to buy some happiness

for my kids, who are drawing

platefuls of food in the mud

with their little fingers,

and who look at me

with stern, hungry stares.


I know their slimy souls,

covered in the mud—

know them intimately.


I am going to buy—

a kilo of happiness,

a packet of joy,

a bar of satisfaction,

a lump of ecstasy,

& many other things

only money can buy.


In this midday sun,

as the drawings of my kids

flutter in front of my eyes,

taking me back to the scraps

of rusted reverie,

I look up and see sparrows


fly zigzag, like technicolor kites,

making hazy outlines

across the blue October sky—

they leap up & down & chirp

in a language too slippery

to be caught & comprehended.


The pictures inside a kaleidoscope

sparkle white-hot, bubbling

in the beatings

of my decrepit/delirious heart—


in the narrow alleys’ hubbub

with an air of ephemeral joy;

and I am going to New Road

to buy things only money can buy.

Poetry by Yayāti
Read 67 times
Written on 2020-10-29 at 14:09

Tags Kathmandu  Festivals  Hunger 

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Thomas D The PoetBay support member heart!
I love especially "the scraps of rusted reverie"; "the narrow alleys' hubbub"; and the sparrows like technicolour kites. Well done, as always!

Amy Valentina
painful reality painted so beautifully with words. It makes the heart feel and empathize.
Thanks for sharing