Poem of the Day
1981
By Asiya Wadud
in a world the orange sun resets
in a world the orange sun resets
This couple strolling arm in arm
Must be figments of someone's revery.
They stop often to linger over a kiss,
At the beginning of the war, the streets resembled a promenade
of the most beautiful dogs, abandoned by their masters
who had run away from the burning town. Behind them remained
The long day has ended in which so much
And so little had happened.
Great hopes were dashed,
For asking, why is there something
Rather than nothing?
The schoolmaster sends the little punk
The Eskimos were ravaging Peru.
Grandfather fought the Hittites.
Mother sold firecrackers to the Bedouins.
Stale hunk
Left for us
On a plate
Walking the streets of the city, sitting in a bar.
Sometimes I take delight in the things I see;
Sometimes I hardly notice what things are:
As you look up at me and think you know
That in the light of now I’m such and such—
This light has been relinquished long ago.
Illusions of the moonlight, pale processions
Of spirits wandering among the trees...
Cries and accusations and confessions...
I wake and feel the city trembling.
Yes, there is something unsettled in the air
And the earth is uncertain.