Mar Mikhail

A few coloured steps up along Escalier Gholaam

Tapping sounds of footsteps – dressed in black – aged man or Madame

Crumbling Ottoman buildings stay erect – while others decay and despair

Beyond disrepair – a situation, totally irreconcilable

Church bells ringing while Imam calls for prayer

Schizophrenic – cars dash as high speeds – nobody liable

A state of war – where are your papers

I’m walking my dog – just an errand – or something more

Bullet-holes of my mind and my walls – carnage lingers – shrapnel wounds on faces

Handcuffs and Kalashnikovs – you’re under arrest – where is the law

Black smoke emerges from minarets and church tops

Densely populated – overwhelming – traffic – downtown smashed into car lots

Maquillage and stylish stilettos – coiffure gents sport tuxedos

Open buffet – winner takes all – boozy lunches

While malnourished children line the streets of Hamra

Men sit and sip argeelah – time lost but time well spent

Security checks again – where’s your papers

Soldiers question and time spent

Unknown political war with scars across my street

In Mar Mikhail is where we meet

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