A Fleeting Thought
Assume, just for a moment,
You are fired from your job—
The nine to six daily grind
Of unruly classes, officious bosses—
What will you do but walk in the alleys
Of your dead dreams, soaked
In the neon lights of long loneliness?
Your desk is orderly and neat,
Your lectures feed your family.
No one seems to be bothered,
Except for the occasional frowning
Of the contours of your father’s face.
From one classroom to another, you walk,
Bobbling on a wave of drowsiness,
Dreaming the most august poetic openings.
But, wait, assume for a moment,
You are fired from your job—
What will you then write about?
With what unease and what foreboding?
Bibek Adhikari
Poetry by Bibek
Read 154 times
Written on 2018-09-18 at 18:47




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