Hash and Gout
A new poem, حشيش ونقرس, by Yasser Abdel Latif (who doesn’t have gout) and which was published recently in أخبار الأدب here.
I wish I could take my feet off with the socks:
Their toes, Achilles heels.
Thanks to gout
I’m reminded of the ant hordes
Once set loose through my veins
By Egyptian hash.
The doctor tells me: Don’t smoke it if it bothers you so.
I say: I love the fragrance of it; rolling the joints.
She says: So choose between the fragrance and your comfort.
Uric acid gathers in the blood
And much Urisolvine Effervescent must be taken
To break those tiny crystals down.
During one bout of hemp poisoning
Each crystal forming
Blew a lamp in the antique radio
And the Sitt’s voice faded into ether,
Like words traced with a finger
Through condensation on a pane.
While he dozes by a brimming ashtray
His feet crawl painfully away
And he chooses
Between his comfort and the fragrance