Inside the cafe, Akhmed smokes Al-Hamra under a sign that says
"No Smoking." E'ad blows the dice before he rolls them. Basheer
stands over him and moves the checkers. (The President is on T.V.)
Rasheed clicks his teeth as he sucks the dense grains
from a cup of coffee. His teeth, brown and cracked,
whistle between their cavities. Just back from Mecca,
Hajji abstains from caffeine and nicotine, drinking
mango juice and searching the paper for soccer scores.
Nabil pours cream into his coffee, the liquid rising above the brim,
leaking onto the table. Purple lipstick sticks to Mariam's teeth.
She skips table to table to watch the backgammon.
She wants to learn the Turkish names for the rolls.
A soldier takes his cloth and dusts the desert off his cartridge.
(The President denounces the terrorists.) The soldier looks up at Mariam,
imagining her hair runs down her back, when she takes off her hijab.
This poem was originally published in Vayavya Monsoon 2014.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem