I met Mahmoud through my uncle
my uncle found Mahmoud
on the internet
Gaydar
or
Grinder
somewhere like that
Mahmoud joined us for dinner
there was a terrace
a 360 view
of old istanbul
I remember
the soft underbellies
of seagulls
singed orange
by city lights
and I remember
the sounds of boats
sloshing drunk
under Galata bridge
Mahmoud was slow to order
in the end he didn’t
instead he told me
of his journey
from Syria
to Turkey
he told me of his family
of his friends
and of the snaggled
bullet studded
monster
that had swallowed his home
his home where friends lay buried
his home where mother worried
as he spoke
I could not take
my eyes
from his
as he spoke
they filled with tears
and in those deep green wells
I saw his city
how he remembered it:
fountains
flower beds
warm pavements
a small boy
on roller blades
Mahmoud told me
of his life in Istanbul
‘they treat us worse than animals’
he said
‘and if not, it’s because they want
my cock’
we stared at each other for a long time
my heart fluttered
I felt his do the same
under the palm
of my hand
there was nothing
to be said
and in his shimmering eyes
I saw the orange gulls
circling
over
head.
Ivana Popov
April 2016
That’s the best poem I’ve read for awhile. cheers.
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Thank you, David! Sorry for this late reply. I’ve only just discovered the ‘Comments’ section on here!
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