Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Poetry: dust

this country is covered in dust.

and each time I slump through its
sunshine and car horn streets,
mouth agape,

the grit creeps up to airbrush my red toenails
and sandaled feet,
a natural hejab for my
discreetly exposed parts;

and as I’m stupefied by the
perfect erosion of the
breadcrumb boulder mountains
and the broom-swept deserts

I remember how I read somewhere that
dust is made
at least 15 percent, I think
of human skin,

and I wonder
is it the worn down people
of this land
on my feet and hands?


  1. beautiful -- I love your discussion of dust.

  2. i love this poem.

    and i miss you, sanaz.

    these past few days have been indescribably difficult for me. i wish you were here to discuss them with me.

    hope things continue to go as well as they seem to be going.

  3. this poem is beautifully written and very descriptive. i really enjoyed reading it. thanks for sharing!