WE'RE FLOATING DOWN A RIVER AND IT'S 106 DEGREES IN MICHIGAN

by Ron Riekki

AI-generated gif by NightCafé for The New Verse News.

and she’s in a burkini swimsuit, hijab, with

a Rage Against the Machine-style hat/visor,

and we’re trying to relax, but we talk about

war, and when the tariffs started, I said, then,

We’re going to war.  She asked what I meant,

and I said, This is isolationism.  He doesn’t

want us dealing with other countries, because

the more we can supply everything on our

own, the more we’re setting up war economy.

And then time went by and we’re on a river,

and I’d said we’d go to war at the end of

his presidency, because going to war will

increase the odds we stick with the same

political party, the war party.  But she says,

No, I don’t think he’s going to wait.  I think

he’ll go to war soon.  We disagreed.  She’s

from Iraq.  She sensed it.  She told me her

PTSD is so strong, her hypervigilance is so

extreme that she reads rooms, feels when

there’s tension.  But it’s the same with our

world with her, how she can sense a war

coming, told me about the attacks on Iran

before the attacks on Iran.  And we’re on

a river.  And we’re floating.  Inner tubes.

Trying to relax.  But we talk about wars.

She says, I’d like to speak out and say every-

thing I think about what’s going on, but I can’t.

I ask why.  Because, she says, They’d kill me.

I ask who would.  She lowers her voice.

We’re on a river.  We’re trying to relax.

It’s 106 degrees.  What are we doing to

the earth?  What are we doing to each

other?  She whispers.  She tells me her

fears.  I tell her she needs to write it in

a poem, in nonfiction.  I can’t, she says.

Then in fiction, I tell her.  I can’t, she says,

They’d kill me.  We talk about Malala

Yousafzai.  We talk about the hijab, how

she loves to put it on, makes her feel

closer to Allah.  We talk about the view,

stunning, the shimmering on the water,

hypnotic.  We talk about the awe sounds

in God and Buddha and Yahweh and

Allah.  And even in her name.  A name

that is tied to God.  And we float and

we talk about war.  Surviving.  The heat.

Ron Riekki co-edited Undocumented: Great Lakes Poets Laureate on Social Justice.

MY GREAT-GRANDPARENTS & THE BURKINI BAN

by Judith Terzi

Image source: Judith Terzi

after “What people are saying about ‘burkinis’ in France” 

—L.A. Times, August 18, 2016

Zipporah. She is covered from head to toe 

with an apron & layers of cloth. 

There is the idea that . . . women are 

immodest, impure, that they

should therefore be completely 

covered. Wool scarves swirl around her 

hidden neck in the black & white 

photo. A headscarf, or a tichel, hides 

every strand of great-grandmother's 

hair. [This] is not compatible 

with the values of France and 

the republic. Zipporah––a bird in Hebrew.

She flew from Russia to a brownstone 

in Baltimore. She sits on a stoop. Even her 

hands are invisible; we see only her 

withered face. She is over a hundred. 

I issued this order . . . to ensure the safety 

of my city . . .  am only prohibiting 

a uniform that is the symbol of Islamist 

extremism. Zipporah––a bird who 

flew to the heavens before I was born. She 

sits next to my great-grandfather 

in the black & white photo. Hasidic white 

beard, a yarmulke between him and 

his God. It is the soul of France that is

in question . . . France does not hide half 

of its population under the . . . odious

pretext that the other half would be 

afraid of temptation. An oversized wool suit 

envelops his body & his fringes. 

In the 32mm film, he blesses my mother 

& her sisters. His body rocks. Back 

& forth, back & forth, as he recites prayer. 

Pious great-grandfather who gave me 

my name. The beaches, like any 

public space, must be  preserved 

from religious demands. Great-grandparents 

covered in faith & fabric.

Author’s Note: Italics indicate direct quotes from French governmental officials, including the Prime Minister, the Minister for women's rights, and the Mayor of Cannes.

Judith Terzi's poetry has appeared in a wide variety of journals and anthologies including Caesura, Malala: Poems for Malala Yousafzai, Raintown Review, Spillway, Unsplendid, and Wide Awake: The Poets of Los Angeles and Beyond. If You Spot Your Brother Floating By is her most recent chapbook from Kattywompus Press. Her poems have been nominated for Best of the Net and Web.