Poetry

Once again the land was alone
with me. The hills were humped and low.

If only they wouldn’t leave us so alone.
At the fair, and farther out, in the arcades,
in arcadia—

Finally there’s someone I might
and have and could one day 
want again, or tarry—

“When they came to camp, they asked my friend Abdi
if he was ready to join the militia. He said, no.

“Another main concern or risk that we face apart
from civil unrest is the threat of banditry,
mainly between Dadaab and Liboi, by far

In the placid lean of an arid summer, in the lingering
snarl of pit latrines, the sharp barbs of the acacia,
in the opaque eyes of the girl whose fingers frenzy

“We always kicked for the same team. We prayed
next to each other on the sajjada during salat.