Poems in English, Norwegian and other languages

Ramadan in Rabat

She’s sweating in the Moroccan sun

Cussing out everyone 

The culture here, the people, the stink… 

So Karim pours her another drink

Parce qu’elle le vaut bien.

Her husband said a year or two

It’s been three

She’s been at home, nothing to do

And he’s been at the embassy

A tagalong wife

A shell of a life

What did she think!

What did she possibly think!

So Karim pours her another drink

Parce qu’elle le vaut bien.

Some weeks ago she went with Sabrina

In a taxi to the medina 

For authentic stuff from the gutter

Probably made in China, 

When suddenly she heard the driver mutter:

Vagina. Vagina.  

Tut-tut, tut-tut, Karim shakes his head

I kick him in gut, I make him so dead!

Parce qu’il le vaut bien.

They got out of the car 

Oh, no-one did warn her!

Before they got far

As they rounded the corner

They saw him kneeling, oh so provoking!

Revealing…, stroking…

The uncleannes!

His penis!

Karim, the waiter, doesn’t blush

Nor go hush or shush

The only sound around is clink

As he pours her another drink

Parce qu’elle le vaut bien

 

A policeman came and eyed up the man

And said, écoutez madame, his thinking is hazy

He hasn’t eaten, it’s ramadan

We all go a bit crazy

To put him in jail

Is out of scale

You know, a normal male…

Let’s give this swine

A hefty fine

Or as you call it, a bail

Look, he’s pale!

In prison

He will die!

Listen,

Tell me why

Will you push him over the brink?

Karim sighs and pours her another drink

Parce qu’elle le vaut bien

I detest him

I insist you arrest him

He is, what do you say here, a kafir!

He *should* suffer!

Make him squeal

This ordeal

Is unreal

*I* must heal!

Let the wheel of justice turn

Let this godforsaken bastard burn!

Karim gives her a little wink

And pours her another drink

Parce qu’elle le vaut bien

A few weeks later a scene could be seen

And interrupted her yoga routine

The guard at the gate ruptured her inner calm

As he shouted on the intercom

It’s his mother, he said, the driver’s. She’s crying.

She says jail has broken her son, he’s dying. 

She says she can’t bear to outlive him. 

She says only you can forgive him.

This is what I’ve heard

And I believe it’s the truth I’ve been told

If you just say the word

He might die not a youth, but old. 

Karim nods sagely: did you shrink? Rethink?

And he pours her another drink.

Parce qu’elle le vaut bien

Justice, she replied, must be served, I always say.

To each what he deserved, it’s as clear as night and day!

And this is how you do it here, right?

Keep you dick in your pants or … goodnight!

Even a low-creeping creep should know

What you reap: you reap what you sow

He put this on his own head!

It’s not my problem if he’s living or dead!

Indeed, Karim says and finds her a pink cup

This is for you, he says. Drink up.

Parce que vous le valez bien.

And you know what she did, the mother?

She threatened me with another son. Another!

Of course, I called her bluff

One dick-wagging son is more than enough!

Oh yeah, he’ll find me

And make me pay the price?

Maybe he’s right behind me!

Oh, that’s nice!

A pox on you all

A pox on this place

Your dicks are too small

Get out of my face.

Parce que je le vaux bien

Bien sûr, madame, Karim says, I think this was it.

The curtain is falling, inshallah, I’ve done my bit. 

She stutters and stammers,

Suppressing a scream

She did see this brother

— His name was Karim.

The sun is setting, the sun is setting

There will be no more sweating

Forget, yes, but forgive?

Ah, non. And now the sun has set.

If this is how you live

Then this is how you regret

Is this is what you give

Then this is what you get

Chien.

Parce que tu le vaux bien. 

#poetry