Black Chador

The women of Alexandria wear a chador that
mercifully hides her bony body, she could have
fitted a Dior dress snugly, but she doesn't
know this, she has walked ten miles to buy
bread for her children
She has been to the fruit market too, where
where rib-cage mules with sores stoically wait
A rich, elderly English woman tells the mule
As the owner of it, she has never felt the pang of hunger
Nevertheless, she puts bandages on a mule's
open sores
The woman in the black chador is oblivious of this
Empathy for suffering animals is
a concern of
the wealthy, those who have time to care

Walking to Rome

On my way to Rome, I walked with a group
of Jews who had left Israel because it had
become a racist state
The Jews were a group of young men and
women on their way to Rome to seek an 
audience with the Papa to ask him to take
a stance against the **** of brutality 
against the Palestinians
Their goal was the creation of a Palestine
They, as Jews, could be a part of a new future
I listened to their ideology, and they were 
Young enough believed in the shared dream
I knew that, should they see the P, he would
be nice to them and speak in a measured 
voice, because the Papacy was a political 
too, and nothing must upset the balance 
I don't know if they got an audience with the pope
But I learned something vital, I had tended 
to speak about the Jews in a negative form
and didn't see the difference between Zionism and Jews
As for me, I met a wonderful woman at Travessa
de Santa Maria and had a splendid time

Endurance 

For we are the blessed 1% surviving
The long night in a nameless town
and meeting two well-dressed Arabs
gentlemen suited in the style of 
ninety thirty-two and floral hats 

With fortitude, we face this modern
A time when lies are deep in sagacity
where the whims of the stupid are
the politics of the day, drink coffee
knowing we are the eternal.

Latakia, Syria

My ship berthed there when Bashar al-Assad, the vile 
When a dictator was in power, I found a peaceful  town
Dressed in a European manner, there were many shops
selling all sorts of wares, and the police wore sidearms 
not machineguns 
Latakia had an atmosphere of peace
Then suddenly, rumor had it that Bashar had jailed thousands
Many people were tortured and killed
The USA turned against him, mainly 
because of a Russian base nearby, proof that Assad was
on the wrong side of a conflict that appeared to
be based on lies
In the end, Bashar al-Assad fled to Russia, and Syria was free
One wonders what happened to the thousands of
tortured prisoners, said to be freed

Man and his dog

He awoke under the bed, and it had been his birthday
drinking champagne, eating Danish pastry, and smoking Havana cigars
He walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took out
a beer, which he thirstily drank while wondering why
Everything was so quiet
The maid had been in when he slept, and everything was in order
When did the guests leave, or had he partied with his teddy bear
Being lonely since his dog died
Looking out of the window, he saw many cars, and they had
No drivers and some had open doors as if abandoned in haste,
But what had happened?
In a bakery/café, he had a sandwich of cheese and tomatoes,
He made it himself since the lady who owned it
The café was not there.
It dawned on him that he was alone in the world, everything
He didn't need to share his good fortune with anyone,
Except for the cur outside that ran away and barked when seeing him
He tried the Rolls-Royce that belonged to the mayor
Yes, the ride was smooth, distracted by thoughts, he hit a lamp-post,
But never mind, there were other cars around
At an expensive restaurant where he once had dined,
He made and made himself a hamburger with hot fries
drunk on the most expensive red wine possible.
The dog that had growled at him looked at him through the window,
wagging tail, it knew he was the only one left to feed it
Months went by, and the window, his life, was getting a bit onerous,
just him and the dog following him around, getting fat from his overfeeding.
He stopped shaving, showering, and wearing the same pants
Since the day was endless anyway, why bother with personal hygiene
When there was no pressure to conform
Deeply depressed, he jumped from the top floor of
a tall building to end it all.
No such luck! He descended, slowly broke down, and cried freely
as the dog was the only witness to his sadness
Doomed to live forever, he lay down under the bed
But before falling into Nirvana's arms, he got up again
Someone had to feed the dog.

In the name of peace

I will put you against a wall, shoot you blue
green and yellow with my paint until you
a white flag of surrender
I will paint blood dripping red paint on your
for hire a plane, the one that dropped a bomb
In a café in Gaza
We know where the plane's pilot lives.
If that doesn't stop you, I will obliterate you
My arsenal of drones that shot a man off
His wheelchair, pulverize your house with all
It's chattel, if that fails too, I will use nuclear
Our bombs are for peace, but yours
are for evil
Do as we tell you, or we will **** you in the
In the name of peace

The Wardrobe

I opened the wardrobe door
There they hang, suits and trousers
worn so long, looking pale
copies of my figure
This can't go on, in a fit of self-anger
I gave my old clothes to the Salvation Army
Too much textile is a burden  
In a suitable shop, I bought a pair of jeans
and a matching jacket
Feeling adventurous, I walked out looking
For a mule, horses are too tall, began
Exploring the landscape of dreams