It is raining dust outside
But seems mysterious mist
Through the tinted glass
Of my office
In the Arabian Gulf
This oil-rich desert land
A man-made haven of comfort
It comes they say
From far off lands
Like Ethiopia
Where stomachs burn
In scorching famine
A waterless terrain
Blessed by the genesis
Of the extolled great Nile
And as I look listening
To the hum of the a.c.
My spine radiating bliss
Of make-believe grace
Hollows stare at me
Set in them are cat-eyes
In the dark of the night
Of fire, thirst and hunger
That shame and haunt
My hypocritical posture
The dust-winds blow unabated
Clouding my vision
Every condemned being’s
Incurable blindness
An unceasing retribution
