Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Final Issue 2018
why I am Melissa
Ghada Khalil

the rabbit is lonely, he was
made a pet. then, the train, full
of us Melissas, heads
to Grand station, stars
above our heads. we
exit, walk, fast. desk

with curvatures, somebody
is always an ässöl somewhere.

flowers in buckets, eyes of
strangers straying on our hair. a

wild diagnosis of the street, a
map of heartache, and shoes, and
umbrellas, and bags, and sirens, and
perfumes, and garbage cans, and gaits, and
noise people make, like

we are coats of dead skin, an exit
in the body –closed, shutting
down, walking in the light, surrounded

by spectators who can’t see but
do see, the private and concealed.

About Ghada Khalil

Previous Poem | Next Poem