a quiet acquaintance

for B.W, former classmate

I stumbled on something you wrote
the other day and was surprised and glad
glad of the path you seemed to have taken
glad of the change that came by your token
glad that you were the same

as I remembered

you, soft spoken, wary of breaking
a confidence, wary of shaking a word
and rather than hurting a conscience
you spent your waking conscious
like a concerned hummingbird over blooms

there were heaping spoonfuls of creativity
in your camomile attitude
with such contradiction in an aura
you truly never ceased to amaze me
so I can use that clichéd line without flinching;

like the time you delayed handing in your writing
at the end of the writer's course, for marking
delayed, as in, indefinitely.
were you frightened of judgement?
did you discount yourself, or were you lazy?
I really don`t know; you weren't there to clarify.

or the time you had that performance in the play
really it couldn't have been anyone but you
but then, to the cornered eye, it couldn't -
you didn't seem the sort when you receded.

you won't remember me; I don't mind.
I consciously tried not to talk to you much
we don't need to strike up a camaraderie
you know I won't do it out of modesty
I know you won't do it out of respect

suffice it to say I honestly liked you -
you're a deeply swell sort, so may God guide you;
I think you have the spirit of a tree
waiting to burst into Spring.


--

the plaque

so we really teared up when they gave you the plaque
wait - we clapped first, hard-hitting hands
our cacophony sounding loud our support for you
and dissonant protest at your imposed leaving.
then, like a loose-hinged door swinging back
it hit us, then, what it really meant:
that engraved steel sheet was a certain cold finality
so our eyes, confused at the situation
dipped into wells of memory
and filled with enough to weigh down our hearts
as we came to you with inadequate arms
you wore your quiet serenity around you
and our fingers burned for having made a sound



---

to a Bahamian friend

Hey girl
I love you man
how can I say this?
Look, if you were drowning
in the middle of the Atlantic
and I tried to swim and carry you back
I'd stay and hold your head above the water
if I got cramp, and could barely hold mine



---

publish my Java

Were you there, you know, when I was thinking about myself?
No, you weren’t, you were at work, and I took a day off because of
conjunctivitis, I said, but mostly anxiety.
If only we could make a living out of being there,
if only we could just pour the thoughts out in a paper cup.
My mind is well insulated, I tell you,
my thoughts'd make good hot coffee,
good enough for Starbucks at least. But, the question is,
would you buy it?


--

My neighbour's baby

My neighbour’s toddler pottering across the floor mat.
Planting plump fingers in my DVD speakers and
Perfectly contented with just pressing buttons
She babbles as the audio comes on
And fast-forwards it.
Hang it, oh, you’re just too cute.

Bending down delicately to pick up her di-di
(pacifier, hardy and loyal)
She pokes her finger into the cheerios holes before eating
Then pulls out tissues from the box and flops down
Cleaning the floor for me.
Smart girl, mashaAllah

I go off into my dresser to find
A string of plastic hearts for her to play with
She puts it on and off, on and off, smiling
Me exclaiming loudly at how she knows it’s a necklace
She handing it back unprompted with sweet understanding
when her mom calls her from the door

I ache for a kiss before she leaves
And my heart butterflies at such responsiveness
In fact, she gives me two.

It’s easier in film or books to match the insides
If I were a character I’d have a lit cigarette, pasted eyes
And give myself a name like Inconsequentia
It would make it easier for that moment
to be understood.




----

I bought a bag

I bought a bag because you talked of bags
recommended bags, thought you liked bags
So I bought one just like you said
Brown, not red

But now how can I show you my brand new bag
So you’d know that I still consider your opinions
And what am I going to do with a bag I have
filled with nothing but you?



----

[µstory] Excerpt from "King of sand and sun"

Amr watched in awe as Sadiq tore off. He climbed the heap like a long-legged spider: back up, all four limbs skimming the surface. As he scuttled up, sand dribbled down from the quick movement of his feet and palms. Towards the end where the pile rose to a steep wall he slowed slightly but carried on, a walking monkey, butt in the air, slightly off balance. In a few seconds was at the top of the heap. He turned around to proudly survey his kingdom: looking down at the pit below and the vast expanse of sand and parked cars around him. Over by his apartment, he could see the plain-clad, barefoot construction workers chipping away at stone, balancing precariously on the unfinished scaffolded sides of the new building. Satisfied, he finally flopped down on his sand throne, calling Amr to come up.

--

Excerpt from "King of sand and sun", a short story