My aunt would give me
Lemon juice and salt
In a finjan
I remember that and remember her
In watching Sudan
During these hard times
Thinking of what war means
As people on the streets
Interviewed for TV
Can barely speak with anger
With misery
Carrying lighter groceries
And heavier hearts
Cousins sighing on the phone
Friend speaking of how she hadn't tasted
Meat since last year
And wouldn't dream of it this year
Eid of Sacrifice
More sacrifice, less Eid
But then she remembered Somalia
And thanked God
Quiet for a moment as she
Prayed He protects
Sudan from war
I think of comics
First Panel, finds oil,
Next Panel, runs
War is sure to come
Terrorist accusations
And character assassinations;
They started it
Who?
This or that dictator?
On a scale of one to a tonne
Of oil barrels across the border
Lives are cheap hundreds
On one side
But living is expensive
On the other
I feel a queasiness
That my aunt's finjan of salty lemon juice
Cannot fix.
