Selected Poems

B. Mohassess, 2010



I’ve decided to take the plunge,

dive headlong into disaster.


I undress,

clip on borrowed wings

and expect the worst.

I know once dead,

there’s more dying yet.


Once I opened my mouth,

God looked away and whispered,

She’ll not survive the reckoning.


That night I played backgammon,

lost every round. God mumbled

over my shoulder,

She never allows for the holy ghost.


I’m easy game, more fragrant dead

than alive, like the Prophet Mohammad’s rose.