Bushra Elsnousi
I.
The roof atop is vast.
The beauty, I miss,
under the thunderous sounds
of rain.
Who should tell the world,
of my foolproof plan?
Tested repeatedly,
never amounting to promised
success.
I’ll never settle for less.
I need a waterproof tent!
II.
The sun burns my eyes,
accompanied by the looks.
Every way I turn my head,
an eye, foolish in judgment
stands atop my ragged baggage.
The store clerks chase me from shade to shade.
Until I’m exposed in daylight,
then they exclaim in puzzlement
about the bums filling up their pavement!
III.
Each meal brings in the world.
I am stretched until there are no tomorrows.
In the wee hour, I face my deafening music;
the needle, the bottle, the jail, death
or worst of all,
the never-ending nights and days.
IV.
A little girl smiles at me.
She sees me.
She sees beneath the veils
of justified and unjustified details.
She litters my suicide letters
and gives me
a diary.