Read Poetry: November 7th/ I’m Losing It, by Amira Abouelazm

We’ll always have
November 7th
The day the orange exploded
into madness
that was already there
But nobody cared
Crescent night around
the heated city
Ascension upon your
Red Ducati
The streets were free
We were free
I felt free
We kissed to liberty!
I tasted your Polish tongue
that day
I sucked the white privilege
out of you
I did it to the last one too…
So, what do I get?
When shit gets real?
you forget your zeal
What are you?
They say:
Iranian, Moroccan, Turkish, no Egyptian
Who the fuck cares?
It’s just what everybody’s obsessed with
these days
The white in black-
The black in white
Pick the gray
it drips with bright
What does it matter that we’ve exchanged
warm saliva
underneath the Manhattan moon?
(Polack savors terrorist)
One wolf has left
and another has come disguised
as a limp sheep
Choose the gray!

– Amira Appleblossom


Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film.

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