STORK

Views  
Run red and dry from Marrakech  
To milk white streams of Atlas mountains  
May her peaks runneth over from  
 
Above  
A stork building a nest atop a minaret flies  
 
Below  
Clatter of mint tea glass as ladies chatter  
 
And the children and the beige taxi  
Chug in the ochre and dust  
 
A woman is a woman  
And a bloke is a bloke  
And as he sits and shits and smokes  
it's her breath he breathes  
When he's broken  
 
Air of blocked drain  
Orange peel cumin camel leather  
Here and there coriander charcoal  
And behind wet kohled eyes  
Wise with the faith  
Of those faceless ones  
Shuffling in sheets down souk  
Streets or sleek on scooters  
 
The scared peacocks plume  
And run scared roof to flat roof  
As you scream for the hurt I done  
And for the shame just a phone  
 
... call away ...  
 
For I am a man and weak like a man  
And the strength of a woman  
Is to love a man