My Grandpa Emails Me Regarding My Plans to Return to Kurdistan
by Tracy May Fuad
The slopes of the mountain may not always be proud of their peak.
– Saddam Hussein
The idea is good but this time
is not right. Nowadays the rabid dogs
are knocking at the doors of Kurdistan.
I worry the country. I worry
the people. This crazy
bunch disturbs
the atmosphere. My answer is you wait.
Yes, I want to be close. I am happy
you write. Nothing for you here.
Remember there is a culture. Remember
it needs respect. Remember
the Islamic nuts.
Who wants to take us back to the year 500?
Back to the time of ignorance.
And of desert traditions.
Also they are very cruel. I am sure
you are aware of it. I am sure.
The wild grapes
are growing. They are growing from
the rocky ground. Soon
we’ll harvest them.
We’ll stomp them into juice.
Soon, there will be wine.
– Saddam Hussein
The idea is good but this time
is not right. Nowadays the rabid dogs
are knocking at the doors of Kurdistan.
I worry the country. I worry
the people. This crazy
bunch disturbs
the atmosphere. My answer is you wait.
Yes, I want to be close. I am happy
you write. Nothing for you here.
Remember there is a culture. Remember
it needs respect. Remember
the Islamic nuts.
Who wants to take us back to the year 500?
Back to the time of ignorance.
And of desert traditions.
Also they are very cruel. I am sure
you are aware of it. I am sure.
The wild grapes
are growing. They are growing from
the rocky ground. Soon
we’ll harvest them.
We’ll stomp them into juice.
Soon, there will be wine.
Tracy May Fuad is a poet from Minnesota and an MFA candidate at Rutgers-Newark. Her writing has appeared in Ninth Letter, Sixth Finch, Prelude, BOAAT, CutBank, Tammy, DIALOGIST, Nashville Review, Hayden's Ferry Review, and elsewhere.