
Two Poems
Cardiopathy
baby sister, listen:
my people got me feelin
so I step up
real quick
to protect em, right?
jihad-fi-sabeel an-nas
I gotta
save the people
feed the people
defend the people
free the people
no time at all to
be the people
baby sister,
my people got me feelin
we in a row of human shields
step outta line
and get shot (in the head)
from the front (or from behind)
it all intertwines and at this point
I got a lady macbeth
jihad-fi-sabeel an-nafs
on my hands
this struggle and that
dictators and autocrats
got me forgetting
this pharaoh right here
between my sides
baby sister,
my people got me feelin
we all need a
bypass
Say: i seek refuge in Rab an-nas
plant the little we can against the evil
and trust the pace Maker’s got His people
baby sister,
you feel that?
Corner Store Pilgrim
Abu Husayn’s is the kinda place
that has another name.
The sign outside reads something like,
Mediterranean Dollar Store.
Not
Middle Eastern.
But everybody I know calls it
Dukan Abu Husayn
because:
Abu Husayn’s is the kinda place
you can walk in
and say Salaam
and depending on the season,
hear:
an Arab newscaster
or a Turkish drama
or Quran
waft over the two crammed aisles.
Those two aisles carry everything.
You know how you can run out of eggs, or milk?
Abu Husayn’s is the kinda place
that’s got your back
when you run out of tahina
or dates
or grape leaves
or pita.
I don’t know if Abu Husayn knows
the number of Ramadan iftars
he has single-handedly rescued
but I suspect that he suspects because
some years
on a single holy night
I can get sent,
not once,
not twice,
but an embarrassing three times
in a single sacred hour before sunset.
And you can see a smile
make its way onto Abu Husayn’s face
the third time you walk in and ask:
‘Amu, wain zeyt az-zaytoun?
and on that third trip,
you will run outta change.
and he will insist
that you just take it.
and you will insist that he
take out the notebook,
covered in beautiful Arabic script
and jot the difference down
next to your Mama’s name.
Do you have any idea the blessings you get
when you feed someone
at the end of their fast?
I suspect it’s the kinda blessing that keeps you open
next to a brand-name-big-box
that carries
nothing.
The kinda blessing that comes after
war and migration.
God bless Abu Husayn and his family,
They’ve carved refuge
out of refuge.
Those two crammed aisles
carry everything.