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Faizal Deen :: from He Ancestral, a novel-in-verse


HEADS HUNTING MEN
dark in latrines
fugitives Foreskin phantoms
index fingerling catches fire
Sita’s choka spits
stolen Cantino’s White
things:          “FOR A GOOD TIME, CALL SULTAN CHA CHA”

blasted! knocking
they arrive
the old men who have been to Mecca                                    BEWARE
 OF DOG

                                                Mom sent Mireille out for more plasters. Just in case.
“Where will Mr. Photon venture first, once freed from?” How’s your Vulgar body?
“wizard beards cup their hands,”
Ibrahim’s Instant Gratification like Port-of-Spain TVs “aerodynamic FAR OUT!”: First Thought
upon the Kaaba, millions of wizard beards cut cocks reading faith “sipping Cokes”
Sperm Tanks— sweaty, hissy nuts
Mr. Photon’s theatre of horrors.
Wormchild on the Loose!
“if you don’t read “namaz,” a faggot, O man-crushing Marmaduke Pickthall,
an Orientalist Peter O’Toole, grees Alice,
an invasion of aunties.
“sweet granpa, pickled
when the good weathers & cruising out,
I am Moderns!,”
LAND OF THE CHEWING SKIN!
 fencing Wormchild, “Open island! Open island!”
“crawling metaphors,”
dark/up Madrassi SWEEPSTAKES coolie
I don’t think much of Mr. Photon: a sheared cock.
Burt Lancaster hair, huh?
 Heads hunting men.




“THE OUTER SAPWOOD IS WHITE”
he bruises
“my Real coolieman”
“so get the Dali in Mr. Manfish / deep in the towers of a lash”
mazes muses mash
Jummah’s “Arabic dunces”
“hasten to the remembrance” “hasten to the remembrance”

Mom among the Middlebrow does the Arawaki!

 “The outer sapwood is white.”


“Don’t play in the masjids after dark!”


 “try this story,” 
you, the Prophet PBUH                      & dead
El Dorado

            —yes, Dramatis.

                                                                        long memories                         Madiwini[1]
  spitting     eyes                      —your eyes, Dramatis.

“Ewarumu”                 invades
 Mother’s                     blind
                                         Enid Blytons Splitting[2]:

“a girl, an acorn coolie, Ice skates!“
“a girl, Grandpa, Par Avion, trying on stories”
 revolutionary Oh
Long us,
  “the Fathergod”  dead when



RAMGOLLAL’S SHRINKING LUCKY LUKE

“he lose him bones!”
shucking suckling Sinbad’s
Mr. Proton’s prepared photons
“Today’s Tom Sawyer”
Oh, shucks!  “I am a squatting coolie chuckling jaguars.”
barfed beefy GUYANA PRIDE
boyhides, Bobby Hull
“The world is the world”
peckers!
Pull,
“Your future, Dramatis!”

“After polishing the Peugeot, Boogie pulls! in the latrine.”
Dream: “an Arabic” as bereaved Arawaki                                   
            Currs cursing “scunts!” (Guyn) dispatch Puppy Patrols out the yard
                        blue midnight “cursing” Ramgollal’s shrinking Lucky Luke
Look!  “this is a canefield
Georgetown Timehri
stiff drinks dynamite Daddy
When we were coolies
Paper-Mate latex FREE
Cheddi Jagan”
arrows, pissy mud

—“a sea-wrack”  
Uncle Sultan in Ireland
describes “the middle class coolie”
as “a thing, a something, a whimpering something” “thumbing Edmund Spenser”

                                                soiled boys spoiled by boys
“Cannon Ball Flower!”
Dramatis
  Jungle            
                        scorches jangal           

Escape From Terror Forest!             “a matinee”
                                     Enter several strange Shapes, bringing in
             sky     




DECEASED, RETURN TO COOLIE
             “Thursday Night at The Fights”
                             blue Doc Savage, a concerto for Ramgollal,
jerked-off
rain

strange Shapes
sky


beyond Berbic
beating off
Jan-Michael Vincent                                       forgive me
                                                                        benign Masasikiri does not kill
                                                                        storied bodies

Wormchild purples Kykoveral
the Poets!
“Ramgollal shows his”
& mid-afternoon

“fearlessly”                  & c. draw their swords

Tonight like Aunties
decant                                     Fairies
SHARP           beyond the moat
“the Fathergod” The End
“Escootez, Granpa!”
“try this story,”

Dear Kaieteur,
to shooting marbles
searching Mark Lester Ottawa CHIN CHIN
“sucking on my ding dong,” trampy              
A stinking trench! A stinking trench!
a rusty retina
Let’s anus & cutlass & snakes 
The night is young. Turn them on.
Before the next continent, “If you don’t hear from me,”
DECEASED. RETURN TO COOLIE.




Faizal Deen lives and writes in Ottawa, Canada. He studied English Literature at Queen’s University at Kingston, Ontario. Deen is Guyanese by birth. He lives with SSabrina, a cocker spaniel.



[1]COMING SOON LAKE FRONT HOUSING

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submissions :: where is the river

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All rights revert to the author/s upon publication.

issue three :: January/February 2018

Elidio La Torre Lagares :: Six poems

walking in Rome
male cicadas foretell the sun
the distance of rain as we walk
through Rome on the 25th of July:
the history of Empire

i touch the breath of fireinside
my mouth birds peck at
dormant words under my steps

roads lead into alibis for an idea of time
when tutte strada vanno a Roma

lady Cicadas, on the other hand, treasure
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the world conforms a canvasher voice
a ripe fruit that floats
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constantly diffusing emergingsomehow
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melts with the gradation of memories the precise
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with loss and life to gain

clouds travel homeless



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round as a certainty
or the eye of a hurricane-
was once one of the
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is known of it compared
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