First, there was the 1st war,
and at the fronts,
Asmaa's uncle was slaughtered.
And, P. O. W. s were dragged through the mud,
tied to trucks...
Asmaa cried on the backyard bench,
at Baghdad High.
Then, Namu died.
Dragged himself in
with a bubble for an eye,
and a skin flap for a hind leg.
And Tamraa tried hard,
to understand why I cried
so hard ...
I’d screamed at the front gate guard,
“shoot him!”
But mercy was not available,
during the war
- not even at the fronts,
euthanasia; extinct.
It was easier with the P.O.Ws
(no one heard you at the fronts).
Ahmed had screamed and shut the bathroom door,
in the remains of Namu’s face.
And in the morning,
Mother cried.
At the stove, her bitter coffee
turned to salt.
And Dad smiled in sadness…
But soon, the trucks on TV,
tore off
the POWs arms!
So, soon,
too soon,
they all forgot about Namu....
In memory of Namu, my cat, who died during, the Iran-Iraq War.
