Ramadan Haiku


            Top floor apartment
spills with friends & friends’ friends, hot
onion pakoras


By noon my breath is damp
            hours dense with rain, the month
still handsome & young




When Abida sings
    God is right here next to me
on the crimson couch


I stroke the torso
            of my phone: 10:10, 6:12
like a sad lover


 Fridge fattens with left
            -overs: yesterday’s chickpeas
next to Tuesday’s beets


Often, I wear my
            fast as an amulet, but
                        sometimes, as dagger  


Don’t forget to pray
texts my mother, This month God
            is in a good mood


On my love’s birthday—
exemptions: day-time sex
            cherries & coffee


 Still hunger appears
            but head-shaven & tongue-tied
watching me watch it


At sunset, soupy      
            noodles with friends under bright
blue awning & rain  

            Is it like a clear
lake?                More like muddy pond
            or a tired creek


Light-footed, light-limbed
            light-headed, light-bellied, light
                        alight in my mouth


iHop parking lot
            sycamores alight with dawn
over pancakes, look!


Grenades hiss across
            another Sufi shrine lost
no sign of street cats


            By now the belly
narrows its need, holds only
                       what fits in my hand


Side by side we march
            From the river to the sea
Palestine will be     Free


Sightings or science?
Some mosques trust mathematics
            while others, the moon

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