My hands are tied,
Bound and gagged, I lie.
If I was born from only hatred
Then I should wish to die.
The music has faded,
Still sweet, though jaded,
Alone in this desert I lie,
Broken, baked and unaided.
Humming faith rattles my heart.
Feet slap on tile, head bent, knees part.
Smoke chokes from copper pots, stoked
And the windless air gathers heavy, anew.
A plethora, suppressed,
Walled in and undressed,
Reclaimed and held high;
Elsewhere you shall invest.
Bite down, watch the feathers that
Flap under sullen glares, voices flat.
I rumble well fed as a humped beast
Bled on a stout little Turkish hat.
My squirming skin bubbles where
Tiny cats clamber and tumble.
I’m drowned a thousand times;
Stained and sun-dried, I’m humble.
Hear me balk as I walk
Through your streets of no name.
I am all of them
And it is here I shall remain.