Catherine McLennan

Fairytales

For Kamal Yassin (Arab Palestinian)

Once upon a time
A man named Kamal

Took a boat from
Syria to Cyprus to

Fly ‘illegally’ by
Plane to London.

All sweaty palms
And nerve jittered voice

The green-eyed man
Entered a judicial court

And pleaded his case
Through a translator:

I was born in 1961 in
Al-Bass refugee camp …

… wounded in an attack
By Hamas members …

Younger brother killed
Before mother died of …

… Israeli aircraft sending
Missiles into camp confines …*

Kamal’s story floated
Uneasily through that

Justice reigning room
Even causing a few

Politicians to imagine
His pain-pitted face

As they slid into bed
After a drudging day.

As those working
People rested tired eyes

Kamal was left with
14 working days

to Appeal* the denial of
Asylum in England.

Where to now?

THE END
*Actual text taken from transcript of court hearing, London, July 11, 2001.

Serepax 15mg

Now I’m borrowed.
Now I’m numb.
—ANNE SEXTON

Ha! She is meeting with it!
In her palm it calls to her
Promising the delight of
Absent mind.
In white pink circles
It surrounds her little
Nightgown, dances into
Troubled air and
Pours for her a glass
Of water.
Her mind has had enough
Waltzing for tonight.
Let’s take that simple
Stride from racing heart
To fast induced
Repose.
Her father no longer
In a wooden box underground
But somewhere in
A mindscape that has
Been closed.
Shut for renovation.
Back in seven hours.
She is not alive,         again.

The Uncanny

***
Arrête c’est ici
L’empire des Morts!

Stop, this is the Empire
Of the Dead!

***

If you go to Paris
Sometime in your time

You may be handed
A pamphlet that says:

Welcome to a
Thrilling visit of the

Catacombs of Paris—
The unique

Bone collection of
5-6 million people

Covering a surface
Of 11,000 square meters.

***

And perhaps you may
Even join the

Tourist trail
Underground

To walk the aisles of
Bone, skull, bone

Under the say-so
Of a pre-paid

Tour guide or
Alone in the company

Of your own
Beating heart.