Tag Archives: Ali Znaidi

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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This Humanity, a Tale

Ali Znaidi

This humanity, this diversity
like endless lightning through
the night.

This humanity,
& its divergencies,
like a river w/ a delta at its mouth.

But how come water is always
down the drain?

This humanity, this diversity—
a tale that we still want to
hear.

The Angry Tramp

Ali Znaidi

A dandelion speaks impromptu,
& so does the angry tramp,
His words, sharp like a lion’s tooth,
[dent de lion]
& if there is something that amazes
it is the use of his hands to explain
his theories
& you can read anger in his hands,
though he is not violent
You can listen to a long extempore
speech full of names of revolutionaries, &
philosophers of revolt
& though extempore, his words
flow like steady steps in jagged terrains,
yellow, his jacket, a reflection of his
heart of gold,
but the holes in it are the injustices
of the institutions,

& his yellow jacket, still an incandescent
Bonfire for other tramps