The Ofi Press Magazine

Poem by Magda Farrug (USA)

Published in The Ofi Press issue 48 

BOOT HILL

The cemetery was empty

bells rung

as bike tires skidded on concrete pathways

I think I'd like to lay here

in the heat of April 

between the life jacket friends

and the everlasting blood

summer brings

I think I'd like to lay here 

between banged up knees

and people who've become 

their dash 

above the ground

where hair still flows in the wind

and my hands become the earth

and the dirt matches my body

where the winter feels long

and the summer longer

where feelings fall short

feeling shorter 

Bike tires skidded

and we laughed

cause we knew we were waking up tonight 

the next day was promised

and the future whispered our names

in the bells

of church chapels

and funeral hymns

deities praised us

raised the fingers connected

to their beating boxes

and hummed to the rhythm of their footsteps

we walked like 

holy books

rested in our shoes

and every step was a sin

I think I'd like to

lay in my resting place

till this is all over

and it'll be easier

till the wind scatters me across the city

and the countries

I want my skin cells to be sewn 

into the flag of Egypt

and the stars of Chicago

I'd like to lay here

till my ankles stop cracking

and my nails stop chipping

till ivy grows over me 

like the tree 

mom erased in spray painted green