Whenever I sit down to write,

they always run into each other

and fight like stray dogs

in the weary backstreets

of the bustling metropolis.

My heart and my mind.

I smoke one cigarette

after another,

puffing furiously along

until a sequence of photographs

of my ancestors in motion

passes before my eyes

or until the sun smiles

on the fecund grassland

of my emotions

and thoughts

stomp around

in huge herds.

Then I start to write

inhaling muffled smell

of an empty page.

My words crumble,

they encircle me

then tear me apart

and disappear

blinking in the dark.

A ray of light

spins in the darkness.

A poem slowly grows

with it and without.

A beautiful

imperfectly perfect

creation.

Its lips open up.

I drink expresso

from a cup

of its mouth.

A holy bridge.

(Bhuwan Thapaliya is the author of four poetry collections. His poems have been widely published in international magazines and journals such as Kritya, Foundling Review, FOLLY, WordCity Literary Journal, Poetry and Covid: A Project funded by the UK Arts and Humanities Research Council, University of Plymouth, and Nottingham Trent University, Life in Quarantine: Witnessing Global Pandemic initiative sponsored by the Poetic Media Lab and the Center for Spatial and Textual Analysis at Stanford university, Trouvaille Review, Journal of Expressive Writing, International Human Rights Arts Festival( ihraf.org), Pendemics Literary Journal, Pandemic Magazine, The Poet, Valient Scribe, Strong Verse, Ponder Savant, International Times, Taj Mahal Review, Poetry Life and Times, VOICES (Education Project), Longfellow Literary Project, Poets Against the War, among many others.)