The Graduate by Caitríona Walsh
The Graduate Caitríona Walsh On the vesper of March I pulsed through the desert, Ever the vagary Clot of the bloodline.Koutoubia's minaret Catnapped before me, Steepled in sandstone–A moonshot missileLullabied by ouds And kittens' Bare-bellied Midnight mewls.Medina mazes Assuaged by Cloud-confetti Orange blossoms–Palls of scent spun In arabesque spells Through souks Keyhole arches.I woke with Muezzin's Call to prayer, Parched, perplexed By Agafay air–Caught in my glottis As cockcrow came–Florid gown gone, No call to cross campusWith tasselled cap Like a gored Rorschach blot, The gashed wattle…
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