Wall Poem by Fawzi Karim

I shut the door - rain flings into my face -
And make for the nearest bar.
I am free as any stranger in a city.
I have no kin to worm its way beneath my skin.
I am a brick in a wall,
Which will soon be added to other walls,
And then - hey presto! - a fort.
Inside my head, muffled by its hat,
I am calming the cries of some woman.
Rain douses her too. The tongue is silenced.
Two glasses, dear waiter.
One is for me.
The other is…still to come.
You will know her by her coat, of wool.
The waiter, a customary type,
Reads the mind of the addict to perfection.
Another customer waits.
He nods - and hurries away.