Poem

Translating a Few Lines by Rehman Rahi (With a news peg in parenthesis) Melting snow a breeze, (a car explodes, flesh and bones litter the road, the bomber spliced to a metal chunk.) The breeze is a spy. Here, can’t even Wailaikum someone, and they speak of dialogue. To live, people die. O Spring be…

Poem

Merry Christmas, America When you’re not with the love of your life in America Love the woman who once was your wife in America Then America was a terror for tyrants and a triumph for liberty Now babies are caged in Texas by President forty-five of Amerika He’s undignified, is unqualified, talks nonsense, zealous Gunrunners…

Poem

Whirling Hebrew Home The Bronx Mother sobs in short bursts I lean over brush my cheek against hers on the pillow “What’s wrong?” “Look at Tarek” she wails “he’s drowning For the love of Allah save my son. Look, my bayta he’s whirling” I’m curious how she knows Tarek’s been swept away by a rip…

Poem

SCOFFLAW There’s a lighthouse chasing us just as I forewarned when she jumped the queue veered the red Renault onto a prohibited bus lane on New Kent Road. We idle on the verge. A world tilts. Bobby, rotund in blue, knocks boldly on the pane. She lowers the window. “Well, then?” he asks, “When I…

Poem

My Dinner with Agha Ashraf Ali You light a candle then curse the darkness with your usual flourish debone a carp add pinch of salt in your carpeted kitchen discourse on the next course to scrape or not the fish head gaadkalley honorific you offer a scrap of history bestowed once by Kashmiris on the…

Poem

WITHERED ROSE by Mohammad Iqbal With what words shall I call you Desire of the nightingale’s heart? In a Country of Roses You were named Laughing Rose Morning breeze your cradle Garden a tray of perfumes My tears rain like dew And in my barren heart your ruin An emblem of mine My life a…

Poem

Blowing Her Lungs Out into a Clay Oven Mother leans against the island in the nanosecond kitchen at Farouk’s home in New Rochelle, marveling at a Miracle Icemaker as half-moons tumble into a glass bowl. She spins a Lazy Susan with glee, clicks the fire fountains on & off. “Atomic food makes stomachs ache,” she…

Poem

Karl Marx Ignites the Millennials after Mohammad Iqbal Ah! Come! How can you not be roused! You are nothing but you are everything. Recharge your IPhones. From each according to his feed to each according to his need. In times of global deceit tweeting the truth puts you in the driver seat. Road to hell…

Poem

Doctor Qureshi Dares My Mother “Maryam Jaan,” he says, “You must be proud of your son Farouk, his wealth —praise Allah— how he has made himself great in America.” The doctor’s white hair is unruly like mine, his bi-focals tipsy, his elbows rest on the mahogany table hand-crafted in Mexico for Ethan Allen, classic Yankee…