Nahrain Al-Mousawi THREE POEMS

FOOL

Between crime of tribe I don?t belong to
And the vantage light not to tell about
When I began knowing how a child eats

Smooth the thick vine on my nape
And work my way toward you
Like nature, like I meant it to be

Like it doesn?t matter
When you turn because
I crouch in faith of sky
Halt the bow of your arms
Like I never doubted
I?m on your back
I?ll put it like this

I never doubted the strong arm
Of food to my face
The handle hunger hand on
Eyes cut back a defense
In my belly like I prowled pain
A rough game and fooled my damage into
Touch.

SPEAK EASY: LONG LIVE THE QUEEN

The fine line between
Desire
and
Hate
Startles
Seethes
Soars
Beneath her lip
Her hip
Her tiny mortal
Mating
Dig, dig.

Better at night
Afterhours sip, sip with
Mortal thugs
She speaks easy
She dips Want
She rises Hate
She dips Want
She rises and
Flippant soars and
How I do hate her
For these wings

It is easy for her to speak easy
Through a colony of cold sores
Beneath her lips,
She beams pestilence,
I am the Queen
Of the herpetic colony

She lays it down,
She and favored me through the darkish air:

Either they don?t
See or care.
Either way,
Men are stupid.
Men are fare dare.

In what way?

In sense and deed.

This is how our mother breeds
The woman we tunnel to be
We will always
Bite each other?s bait, the
Contagious quips
Criminal nocturnal wanderings
Tunnel through and ahead
Beneath the lips, the hips,
Dippy angry colony Queen
Bright-lipped bar Miss:
More sips
More digs

Better at night
Afterhours sip, sip with
Mortal thugs
She speaks easy
She dips Want
She rises Hate
She dips Want
She rises and
Flippant soars and
How I do hate her
For these wings

She lays it down,
She and fevered me on the groundbelow:

I colonized another one
Tug at the horny thug
With my diseased lip
Another infectious dig
Another one hits my colony

Nocturnal scout for
The suspect winged-
Wigged-out mate
Tunnel through and ahead
I sight the same species
Afterhours mortal thugs

A flashlight gang of
Bar bra security
Passing a joint
Illicitly joining them to
The cantankerous canker of
Our Queen?s lip

She soars anew
Another speakeasy
Afterhours relief to relive the
Original
Dizzying
Missionary
Mission
Of nuptial flight
Of her seething oozing lips
The fine line that parts
Just a bit to
Swap desire and hate

They curl curse nurse their
Oozing lips
Their unsecured encrusted
Filial jeweled wings
That she quested
As darkish air looms

And she nested during our hours
Together
Even when she soared
Darkish air
And I scouted, settled score, seethed
Groundbelow
And how I do hate her
For this
Bright-lipped bar Miss
Herpetic colony Queen
Her interminably terminal foul-hungry
Far-away hiss-kiss.

Go to dm xlviii ~ bel ennui ~ “One Hot Poetry Page” for Nahrain Al-Mousawi’s “Unbraided”…

Nahrain Al-Mousawi is a teacher and writer. She is a teacher of literature and language and has published poetry, essays, translations, and reviews in print and online journals, like Journal of Middle Eastern Women’s Studies, Women in Judaism, Rattle, and Evergreen Review.

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