Kiss me
I swear on my forefathers I haven’t touched wine today
I shared the coral fish with the dog
They sell rice that’s full of sand
It doesn’t quench my hunger
I am carrying Mircea’s child
I wish I could blindfold the fetus and kill her
I wonder if they will hang me or give me a life in prison
For killing the fetus
Mircea did not love me
Yet I opened my bosom for him even before he asked
In the light of his erected penis
We turned the pages of our bodies
And read
A for Anaconda B for Banana
Please sell me your hunger
I have gold coins in my waist bag
Swallow fire the color of sugar cakes
Come closer
Tell me I am beautiful
A black cobra lives on
The honey from my navel
I don’t know what love is
But I do want to know how to make love
Please sell me your body
The fishes sleep in the nests
Of the birds that know fire
I want to write water, but I end up writing fire
I want to write sleep, but I end up writing hell
I want to write love, but I end up
Riding on the shoulders of a wimp
And order him to take me to the kingdom of the stars
Where my father is waiting for me
Following the threads of my frock, he will come down on earth
You can write fire charring the ground
But when I plan to write fire
I end up writing eyes
And when I am done
I gauge them out on Marine Drive
The Red Crescent car crushes my eyes
And I stand in line for emergency relief
And I tell them I’m fire
Yes, fire is my nickname
Acknowledgements
Image credits: © Marsha Yi Robinson. Desire. Dimensions: 40 × 60 in | 101.6 × 152.4 cm. Medium: Ink and acrylic on cotton paper. Image reproduced with the permission of artist.
Psychology students are subjected to the famous takete/maluma experiment which illuminates how we see what the mind wishes us to see. In us, Marsha’s artwork Desire invoked a constellation of ideas that seemed to make it a companion piece for Umma Habiba’s somewhat disturbing yet curiously passionate poem, ‘A For Anaconda’.
Translator | Quamrul Hassan
Quamrul Hassan is an MFA Candidate at the University of Arkansas’s Program in Creative Writing and Translation. His poems and translations have been published or are forthcoming in Agni, Copper Nickel, Hayden’s Ferry Review, The Malahat Review, Columbia Journal, Mantis, World Literature Today, The Los Angeles Review, Tupelo Quarterly, Usawa Literary Review, Prachya Review, and Star Literature Review. He is also the author of the haiku collections Spring Moon (2011) and Hyaku Haiku (2016). His haiku and tanka have appeared in Asahi Shimbun, Mainichi, Modern Haiku, The Heron’s Nest, Laurels, Failed Haiku, Ribbons, and Blithe Spirit. [Text source: Quamrul Hassan]
Author | Umma Habiba
Umma Habiba is a poet and theater activist from Dhaka, Bangladesh. Her debut book of poetry Ghashe Ghashe Roktoful (‘Bloodflowers in the Grass’) was published in 2022. Umma is also a development professional, and has worked with Rohingya refugees, children with special needs and the underprivileged indigenous people in the country’s hill tracts. [Text source: Quamrul Hassan]
