The movie of dust-colloids, under the weak
photons of Kathmandu’s evening. I always watch
it with strange Tao of love and hate.
Sometimes, I think I have metamorphosed
into its asphalt tops, which keep changing
into gutters, and miniature river basins on rainy days.
The ornate door to the desert of dreams, many of times
lead to incinerators, guarded by our dick-shaped
pothead God. The rain comes, to tame our aches.
Is it really me? Or the copy of the copy of my copy?
Sort of Tyler Durden’s disembodied insomnia,
or the out-of-body astral experience of a Tibetan monk.
I live here, but it’s my many 3-D prints,
traveling everyday on the infected engines
of smelly claustrophobia. Happily.
I belong here with my Buddha, and all my greedy ghosts.
The rivers with sacred water carry me home,
where my mother patiently waits for us to sleep well.
# # #
Sudeep Adhikari, from Kathmandu Nepal, is professionally a PhD in Structural-Engineering. His poetry has found place in many online/print literary journals/magazines, the recent being Red Fez (USA), Kyoto (Japan), Devolution Z (Canada), Pinyon Review (USA) and Your One Phone Call (Wales).
Photo credit: Terri Malone