where dirty children
eluding prayers blasted from loudspeakers
everywhere
sell plastic necklaces
we all smelled like camels
leathery men resembling the caravan
each one swaying from a high perch
in a ship of the desert
will gallop
pulling between nostrils with a sharp yank
trusting the three eyelids of their beasts
with their very blood
humps of fat rather than water
devouring nothing for months
thorn-eaters
with efficient respiration
cud and three-section stomach
how many days, how many weeks
camel milk, as a staple
a winged, rank-odor harrowing pariah
~*~
“don’t worry, we use many animals
and give them rest:
they’re all well fed, believe me”
to pull a plow, to turn an irrigation wheel, to draw water
to comb the wool
serve the meat
when you’re finished
Poem copyright 2017 by Jnana Hodson
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Jnana's Red Barn 