Low Flying Planes
Listen:
POEM FOR WANT
A mirrorless story. My father’s mother’s name.
Considering to see a deer in the distance. Prayer for forgiveness, because Allah
is most forgiving, he loves to forgive. My father’s
pishtend. The name of a country
I may die in. Rocks in my body made
against reason, against beauty. I would allow anything at all to occur
at me. Fog and reassurance. Rest at no
revelation. Mountains slanting a page
for hours. I can’t tell you who my father is or
say anything about the country in which
my mother lived, comes from. I’m resigned,
I’ve sat and waited
