Pervasion Poem by Sadek Mohammed

For four days we could not sleep.
There was misery in the moon light.
Misery in the valleys.
Misery in the hills.
Misery in the trenches.
Misery in military orders.
Misery in the rules of engagement.
Misery in bowls.
Misery in tea cups.
Misery in cigarettes.
Misery in the dust.
Misery in the minefields.
Misery in memories.

The enemy's appetite
opened up for the murder of time.

I sat on a protruding rock.
Thinking of my share of red wine
and beautiful women.
Urinating in
an empty water bottle.
Preparing to
survive the next page.
Thinking of Freud's
The Future of Illusion.
Cursing Foucault's
the Order of Things.