5:55 GMT + 3, for Me and Haneen

Doesn't everyone want to say something
just everyday, special? Every day is
so great or not so. Maybe it wasn't nice
the way the man looked at me today
while I bought a plug for the generator.
Maybe it isn't cool to be American.
Maybe I should have said I was Russian.
Maybe I should have hugged him.
I don't know. His eyes were somehow
not to my liking. I guess he could say the same.
Maybe that isn't what could be said though.
How about all that money that I spent,
hundred thou after hundred thou after hundred thou
every lira to a foreigner who couldn't understand
me and vice versa until I banged my head
and said, Damn it! Just damn it all.

Little Haneen laughed. She is only two
and knows the feeling.
Not quite sure but it was raining, still is.
April is cold this year and very wet.
It is 5:55 GMT + 3 or so.
I'm sure to the east there's a hell hole
and to the west there's a bunch of girl scouts and boy scouts.
Maybe up north there is some snow.
Down south, some kind of weird dancing.
Here it is, 5:55 and I've got to go now.
Hope the car starts. Hope is all there is.