i call out for mother & in walks the knife. it breathes. i call for their god & down comes the guillotine. my / father faints. it / ruins me: this urge to press myself back into the earth, to be weepingâ / âwillowed back to god. to forget, i interlace the hand with the ribcage. the doctors donât want me to do that again. i forget / that all my friends are a childhood away [âŚ]
â âfrom mortonâ â lahraeb munir




















