Poetry by Aqeel Parvez

Pillows in Gomorrah

we carry dreams so long but upon birth they

are already eviscerated infants of cot death

so death to the cities that kill artists crippled by poverty

and death to the subservient who have convinced themselves that they are important

and death to those cowards who revert to the mean and wear it like a badge of honour

and death to girls who organise their bookshelves by colour

tow the line long enough and you become the line

I can hardly feign interest in this modern abyss

I crave momentary catharsis

carrying a mangled heart is god’s work

we’re in these streets gasping remorse

and quite quite close to drowning

a youth spent in lent built thick skin

an adolescence crafting hurtful insults

many many days I feel absurd and sick and sickly absurd

but I take pleasure in our affliction

the masses are in silent massacre

isn’t our struggle endearing?

crawl through nightmares for nu genea

for new ways to cope

for new destinies put on trial

isn’t this peace visceral?

lay my tired head on the Pillows in Gomorrah

on the Pillows in Gomorrah

Aqeel Parvez

IG: @ap.writer