Forgoing the Invitation to Heaven by M. Ait Ali
I move in life,―where all
birds, animals, insects,
and cloth-faced humans―dry or
wet behind the ears and the eyes―
were tripped up by the emerald
rug of earth and withal its skillful
questions and questioning tones.
I foot the distance:―the pathway
a teenager, who aged an
integrity of sixty years just
upon one eye-marked nightfall,
follows ashen-faced while forming
a faint mental image of the
past thousand mourners who, too,
walked it up to a house of disgrace.
I stop over a sunflower that
reached the age of major comeliness,
I yawn emptiness,―
I sneeze an original primitive word, and think
little of the sneeze, and then, I
stare the sunflower in its yellow and brown,―
as I show no appetite to pick it up,
for my ladylove has already gone amiss.
I walk and soon lose sight
of my former step, fearless
of the astir and lively life
that I could have left behind,―
gallant towards a house of choice
where I will sleep with
little sorrow to nourish myself
withal but,―a vile,
yet pardonable nightmare.
M. Ait Ali was born in Agadir, Morocco. He attended the Higher School of Technology-Agadir and is currently pursuing a bachelor’s degree in English. His work can be found in The Tipton Poetry Journal, Variant Literature Inc., Carcinogenic Poetry, and many other publications.