Sunday, November 22, 2009

Compound Addis- Poem


Exiled in a world of organized inadequacies
The bliss that once was known will be known again…

And we read each other poetry until our heart’s content
He says, “It is almost like you are a nun.”
And we laugh
The night is at its end
So we can pretend
I am staying at a compound
In a foreign land
Eating my favorite food
By the fingers of my hand
The monks are very smart
Very nice and very neat
The people outside the friary
Sleep on the street

Underarm hair, legs, and bush
Longer, and longer they grow
Holes in my clothes
Luckily I can sew
Dinkinesh lovely in her bones
Rests near a stele
Older than Rome
Exiled in a world of organized inadequacies
The bliss that once was known will be known again…

11/22/09

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