A Midday’s Delirium

Ali Znaidi

after the indolent sun turned scorching, & lights
unsheathed at midday,
head spinned, anticipating dizziness & confusion
& these questions each a thistle
thorny and sharp
like a blade razor slitting wrists
& myriad questions dancing in front of an
overheated brain
& w/ the rain was boiling in the cauldron of the terrace
I wondered if we need a body, or a soul/a conformist
or a dissident/a wo(man) or a cross//transgender
I wondered if we need speech or silence/
a mathematician or a poet/ real body or a digital
flesh/an angel or a demon/a dictatorship or
a democracy/ululations or tears/
tear gas or thought gas

& if you ask would I join you under the shadow
under your cold umbrella
I’d say No

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