Mahdi opened the door and said: “Jawad, they brought one.”
The nightingale fled. I sighed and said, “Okay, I’m coming. Just give me another minute.”
I am like the pomegranate tree, but all my branches have been cut, broken, and buried with the dead. My heart has become a shriveled pomegranate beating with death and falling every second into a bottomless pit.
But no one knows. No one. The pomegranate alone knows.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
John Donatich for his elegant edits and suggestions.
Richard Sieburth, my cornerman, for his friendship and support, and for carefully and gracefully editing the text.
Ibtisam Azem, my love, my first and best reader, for her critical suggestions, advice, and support. And for being in my life.
NOTES
1. A tiny piece of the soil from the holy city of Karbala where the shrine of Hussein is. Shiites use it in their prayers.
2. Al-Thawra (Revolution City) is Baghdad’s Shiite ghetto, where 1.5 million poor working-class families live. Its name was changed to Saddam City in the 1980s. After the 2003 war, it was renamed al-Sadr City in honor of the cleric who was opposed to Saddam and was assassinated under his rule.
3. A traditional Iraqi meal of barbequed fish from the Tigris, prepared with spices and slowly cooked over coal.