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staircase from which amman is seen burning
By Zein Sa’dedin

on the first day of eid, on the steps outside          
the archaeological museum, baba and i watch

a building across the valley from us smother       
                itself in smoke, ‘shoofi keef the whole hill

       glimmers with broken glass’, baba says,        

            cigarette steady between his fingers.        


                        under the same sun of our city’s oldest selves,
                                amon, philadelphia, etc., i think it no          


                 small thing – our city set aflame like this,    
                            minaret calls circling the smoke.

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