Milk And Rum Poem by Rajesh Gurung

He wakes up to a shower
of his wife's scorching barrage
It does little to bother
his blissful state
He goes about his business
oblivious of his spouse
He couldn't care less
if he didn't own a house
as long as he could drink
To his hearts fill
to the brink
of his frail will
The morning milk would end
with one of the village members
mostly the boys, who would spend
on rum for the milk and stories he offered
I wonder if he misses Tibet, his home
whence he came as a child and never returned
I wonder if he sometimes feels alone
in his drunkenness, like a child shunned