where dirty children
eluding prayers blasted from loudspeakers
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

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
For more, click here.

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