The Jordan that Makes Me Beat

Heading home in the winter and in my veins there is a singing in the same familiarity that confuses you when your dog knows the car is almost home; I never understood that instinctual compass that made them whine and wiggle and physically not be able to contain their joy at where they’re headed until… Continue reading The Jordan that Makes Me Beat

on the royal jordanian, new york to amman

the plane lands in fields arid and emptyred in the south, and everywhere dusty, and the dead sea holds its breath, bellows under Pangaea’s plates,welcomes me home again. with every landing my stomach braced,dusty nostalgia revisited,my silly hope misplaced: the fields forget me, and I forget to forgive it,assuming always that my land also sought… Continue reading on the royal jordanian, new york to amman

on stone

my mother thriving,my father now dusty bones,my parents are like my countriesand I am the land between the deserts and the prairies.America and my home Kingdom,they are nothing alike.Like my parents, they are divided by simple things, small ideas,that still keep them worlds worlds, my parents, both are wrought with ancient passions and dust,nothing… Continue reading on stone