A few short verses for where prose stops dead…
“Drink wine and look at the moon
and think of all the civilisations
the moon has seen passing by.”
– (Omar Khayyam, Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam)
*
Omar Khayyam was a civilisation
Teaching philosophy and geometry by day
Learning astronomy by night
We let it pass away
*
We fell the Buddhas of Bamiyan
Leaving behind two holes,
The shape of two large eggs
With dead birds inside..
*
We planted so many roses and walnuts in Kabul
That the gardens exploded with profusion
Scattering rose red and charred brown entrails
Across the length of the city
*
We dropped coins in wishing wells of oil
All our wishes came true
*
We did not want to leave a single margin of error
We ended up with fault-lines
