Suburban Sprawl
2022and sleep is over transfigured into grey
slacks a twice-worn sweater the bishop
billows and like a mass of startled roaches
I am veiled in incense and the hullaballoo
of unintended Beelzebub intervals oldies grip
their prayer books O god why did you omit
the notes the chorus sounds a cult
and Heba blesses me with her holy spittle
as she genuflects such devotional stamina
unseen in seniors they compete you know
The lowest and loudest will make it to heaven
while the absent are subjected
to tittle-tattle torture at tea
On to Paradise Baghdad and Butrus he stands
the fruits squish like memory foam sad apples
soft pears but we come for the gaimar
silan and samoon and Butrus the mystic
slips me a damp bag and a wink
and his sweat’s a secret I spy the wheaty morsels
seated atop his gut they discuss decomposition
the sage disappears cue baseball diamond punches
It is two o three and I flump
on fallacious leather where is Yousif I whisper
the Joe I ordered is frigid and at the doorway
his face half eyebrow takes a good look
a scan for the java a seat and a sip
He’s no watch man his henley agape revealing
a jungle but it sounds like the desert and drones
and it feels like a war and my coffee is out
I have too much stuff in my car
what fool forgets to discard his cups
now filled with shoe dirt and goo grass
and anyway the bread fumes are grabbing
my nose there’s a hint of christ
scented clothes no refusal in them
because I’m already turning right to turn
left under suspended flaxen forks