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Cairo Jag

Rating: 3.0

Shall I get drunk or cut myself a piece of cake,
a pasty Syrian with a few words of English
or the Turk who says she is a princess--she dances
apparently by levitation? Or Marcelle, Parisienne
always preoccupied with her dull dead lover:
she has all the photographs and his letters
tied in a bundle and stamped Decede in mauve ink.
All this takes place in a stink of jasmin.

But there are the streets dedicated to sleep

stenches and the sour smells, the sour cries
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Roberto Anasi 24 February 2014

Just discovered his work and was really jarred by how unusual and fascinating it is. It captures the paradoxes and horrors of war better than almost anything else I've read.

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