Muttering to myself
I peek at splattered satellite images
through sand dusted lenses
of distorted streets in Baghdad
One thousand and one daily sorties
by false kafirs seeking to mate
seventy two Scheherezades
in a counterfeit paradise
Oh what waste in the land
of 1000 and 1 Mohammedian mirages
where not even a solo safe passage
is blessed by Allah
But I don't care
I'll settle for only one of
The Thousand Nights and a Night
and a single Scheherezade.
Puris omnia pura
To the pure all things are pure
except between the gods
separated by sand and ocean.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem