Thursday, November 21, 2002

A small poem for my old friend Ismail Aldayyaffin who is a homeless Palestinian who was with me at the Lagos Medical College, Nigeria.

What if my brother is’nt telling the truth
And is hiding a gun behind his booth
I would be a fool to
Stretch my hand to touch his brows
and ask, are you full.
In his growing pain he may
squeeze the trigger and
let the hot fire
snaring in his gut
drive in the facts into my head
because truth is not important.slcw