Born in Aleppo
I come from a small place in between Paris, Nice, and the Hinterland.
I was born in Aleppo.
I had friends there.
Some had shoes,
others rice.
I don’t know what most survived on.
I was talking to Charlie Hebdo.
He said ‘you’ll have to laugh your way through all the hail,
you’ll die many times before Aleppo.’
I believed that line.
There was always a cat,
somewhere,
ready to pounce
with a hungry mouth.
Cats are drones.
One of the girls lost her mother to a cat.
We were all born in Aleppo.
It’s as if we came from Africa
drawn to die
on the bank of the River of Martyrs
before the smiles reached us.