I run to the refugee hut
run to the plum trees, Öcsi, little brother
dropout, began to deal drugs
married a couple of times,
three daughters and twin sons
notebook of memories, letter fragments
if you die, and nobody claims your body Read more →
i had something called
a bait-ul-ilm teacher;
her voice didn’t sound like
me but she had sun
spots on her cheeks
like my mom did
on saturdays she’d line
us up against a blue
wall in the mosque
and all our tiny brown
hands would cake it
with fingerprints Read more →
The ceiling in our bathroom caved in. It started with a crack and I took a photo of it every day with my camera in an attempt to chastise it into stagnant submission. But a delicate splinter sprinted across the ceiling and blossomed into a dark stain right above the toilet. It looked pregnant and close to bursting. A drop started from the centre of the stain and fell from ceiling into toilet bowl. We put a torn red umbrella next to the toilet. Read more →
Tonight, the aurora gallops across the sky like a herd of spooked reindeer. The stars are brighter than I remember them. It almost makes me forget the chill in the air. That my nose and fingers are going numb. That under my skin, the blood is starting to crystallize. I squint through the lens of my telescope to focus on the jewelled belt of Orion. In the Sami tradition, the stars are known as the three Gállábártnit brothers. Each night, they gather in the sky to hunt the Sarvvis. Read more →
