Over the Bright and Darkened Lands
I sit in one of the dives.
I feel kind of dizzy.
October 29, 2009.
In Peshawar, the shoppers drop.
Explosives in a car
explode kids
and their mothers
in Meena Bazaar.
The bottles look pretty, lit up
like glass pyres.
There’s an olive in my higher power.
The jukebox is haunted.
I brandish my glass.
Smoke stinks in my hair.
We must fuck one another.
Out in the Tranquil Bay
The sea is calm tonight.
Thank you for coming.
The tumor is inoperable.
You are an infidel.
The courtroom is crowded.
The witness has disappeared.
This elixir tastes weird.
The eternal note sounds.
The flatted fifth drones.
Here is your portion.
You are on fire.
Please put yourself out.
Plume: Issue #17 November 2012