Durga Prasad Pokhrel
At Edward Lear’s restaurant
There is a strange picture;
It seems that Lear
Is still inside the house.
I recall my university days
My studies, English literature,
Creative writers and their creations.
Today I am standing in their background
The country they actually lived in
The exact environment they experienced
I say: either indulgent, or sick, or pretender
They are in London.
Edward Lear’s winery inn,
And Eliot’s Waste Land
All are around one mile.
At the other roundabout
From Eliot’s house on Crawford Street
Lies Edward Lear’s Comedy Club
Upper Crossroad is St. Mary’s Hospital,
The home of pain and killer.
‘Which Eliot used to consume more:
Alcohol or Penicillin’
Is still a subject of research.
London is a strange waste land
Between alcohol and Penicillin Island.