The Clot Poem by Iman Mersal

For my father

Simply Sleeping
He bites his lips holding back
an anger he cannot recall.
He sleeps deeply,
The hands holding his head up
make him look like the soldiers
dozing in midnight trucks
as they shut their eyelids
on crowds of images,
letting their souls spin
until they suddenly turn into angels.

EKG
I should have become a doctor
so chat I could track the EKG
with my own eyes,
and confirm that the clot
was a mere cloud
that would break into normal tears
when enough warmth is given.
But I am useful to no one
and my father who cannot sleep in his own bed
now sleeps deeply on a stretcher
in a wide hall.

Screams
Silent women
filled the corridor leading to you.
They prepared for a ritual
Co scrape rust
piled on throats
that can only test their range
in collective screaming.

That's Good
Volunteers' shoulders
carried the man from the next bed
to the public graveyard.
That's good for you.
Death cannot repeat its deed
in the same room, on the same night.

Wards
Usually the windows are gray
and splendid in their width
allowing the bed-ridden
to view the traffic below
and the weather outside.

Usually the doctors have sharp noses
and eyeglasses
that secure the distance between them and pain.

Usually relatives place
flowers in doorways
seeking forgiveness
from their future dead.

Usually unadorned women
walk the hallway tiles,
and sons stand under light fixtures
clutching x-ray sheets
affirming that cruelty could fade
if only their parents had more time.

Usually everything recurs
and the wards are filled with new bodies
as if a punctured lung
is sucking away all the world's oxygen
leaving all these chests
without breath.

Not Likely
It is not likely
that I will take my father to the sea at year's end.
So
I will hang in front of his bed
a poster of beach-goers
and beaches that stretch to places I do not know.
He may not see it at all.
This is why
I will silence the sound of my breathing
as I wet his fingertips with salt water.
And I will believe years later
that I heard him say:
'I smell iodine.'

Translated from the Arabic by Khaled Mattawa