Max Ernst, 'Max Ernst showing a young girl the head of his father'
Crouch, unbend.
Turn the lights out on a wasted day.
Dipping stale bread in copper rum,
leave me here by this river
since your love's agony will never end.
Will the sun condescend
to heal bruised crops
and thin rivulets of blood
pumping iron molecules
in an old myth of Sisyphus?
Prayers, mantras and chants.
Take a knife's blunted years
and unleash them
to the hot, arid winds.
Zaina Anwar 2010
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