Ali Znaidi

 

 

Of Bats and Light
 
Early morning. A bat smashes into
the windowpane of my bedroom.
Others do the same. I get a black
curtain for free.
I remain in my bed where the lights
of early morning can’t reach towards
me. I can’t even see.
Curtain, certain. I hear one of them falling/
collapsing on the ground.
Now I can tell the difference between
night & day.
 

 
 
Autumn Wind
 
When the autumn wind
is blowing/ the trees
                         nude
with inscriptions lovers made
with scars children made
I lose my memory
in the pavement’s dust.
Allergy becomes intense/
Breath castration.
This museum of scattered leaves
leaves me astounded,
& the leaves succumb to my gaze.
                 My eyes still gaze,
& the wind is still shaking
the scattering of leaves/
Dust still infiltrates my nose
in a pathos of a-path ritual/
       Sneeze.. two periods
in the open nostrils/
Sounds of the wind shaking the leaves
leave the allergy more in(tense)-aspect
                                          conspiracy/

 


Copyright © 2012 Ali Znaidi

 
Ali Znaidi lives in Redeyef, Tunisia. He graduated with a BA in Anglo-American Studies in 2002. He teaches English at Tunisian public secondary schools. He writes poetry and has an interest in literature, languages, and literary translations. His work has appeared in The Bamboo Forest, The Camel Saloon, phantom kangaroo, BoySlut, fortunates.org, Otoliths, Dead Snakes, Speech Therapy Poetry Zine, streetcake magazine, The Rusty Nail, Yes,Poetry, The South Townsville micro poetry journal, Shot Glass Journal, the fib review, Ink Sweat and Tears, and Mad Swirl, and is upcoming in other ezines. He also writes flash fiction for the Six Sentence Social Network—