B E C O M I N G

In which the author selfishly explores personal concepts and ideas that likely hold very little meaning to the World At Large.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

The Scent of Diesel

It is a sunny day in Jerusalem
And all the bad men sleep
While visions of sugar-bombs
Dance in their heads
Busses zigzag clumsily
Among the dwarf cars
Mercedes for the taxis
Chevettes for the cops
Ancient minivans to transport
Anachronistic beggars sporting
Incredibly realistic gory parts
(Leprosy is so yesterday)
Quick, duck the tide of hawkers
Selling splinters of the True Cross
And cheap metal jewelry
No self-respecting Bedouin
Would claim as craft
Scent of fuel and bread and spice
And hot bodies sand-scoured
Common to see soldiers in green
Long hennaed hair whipping
Round their weapon stocks
In the dry holy wind
That scrapes along
The Temple Mount.

2 Comments:

Blogger honest + popular said...

"Long hennaed hair whipping
Round their weapon stocks"

My inner drag queen wants an Uzi or some such nonsense now.

Look what you've done, you poetry writing person! (This one is so crunchy, I'm going to get a glass of water now.)

1:30 PM  
Blogger BD said...

Very apt...

7:10 PM  

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