WEDNESDAY

A man wailing is not a dancing bear —Aimé Césaire

There’s death in the eyes of this newborn.
I heard the baby complain about a treacherous defeat,
called it the same old catastrophe.

A storm in his ear says it’s raging for silence.
Thunder erupts when he’s shushed.
What a worsened scenario. He skipped ahead.

What do you do when your destiny is predetermined?
Life in this hospital laughs at us.
Long is the wait. Wild is the wind.

I ask if there’s a wedding going on.
The nurse complained of the clouds.
If I were a stupid flower, 

I’d wither under the rain.

They asked her, What’s wrong with the flower?
not What’s wrong with the rain?

--- Mohammed El-Kurd