Poetry Blogs (segregation)
This isn't the last train. But the late train
has no quiet cars. If a baby squalls no conductor
shushes her. You must shush her yourself.
The late train has no dining car. So board
this train now, or pack a picnic, your own
tablecloth, napkins, napkin-rings, silver,
porcelain. The late train has no schedule.
Depends on how many girlfriends the brakeman
wants to vi...
Wednesday 13th March 2019 2:00 am
Wandering through Nasr Square
the streets close in
and the concrete stacks,
but down here
men sit under shabby awnings
drinking black tea,
smoking stale tobacco
eyeing with disdain
any who are not them.
scurry between hotels
The calls to prayer
Monday 16th May 2016 8:23 pm