Kathmandu – I Found a Tragic Sonnet, I Found too Many

I saw a sonnet in this city

Somewhere in her crown of tangled telephone wires

Streets lined with little boys with porcelain faces

Glue in baggies as though breathing from deific spires

 

By the roadside he lay

Breastfed poverty, cleft lip and seraphic eyes

Gaze held me where I stood

Eyes which could not cry

Yeah Sunni, death don’t always taste good,

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