.
The Erotic Life
Should have written it down
instead of wreaking havoc
yet the other self says keep trying.
Once Haj 'brahim drank the ashes
of his cigarette from his tea,
said it was good for us.
Sultana came through the door
looking pale once again,
thoroughly his wife.
Oftentimes I saw them out front
peeling tobacco leaves one by one,
a group of sisters smiling.
One time the mule got loose
and I led him home by the rope,
fed him apples in the afternoon.
Their children sat out on the roof
watched us through the window,
told the village how foreigners make love.
