This is not, Young Men, the way of the land
Ataturk did not pave cement so you could
Walk these streets with whiskey breath
Laughter disrespect in your faces spit at the
Whimsy of creativity
Crack rock in your pocket
Vodka translucent sheets

Sneak into curves of molars
Glosses over pink gums

This is not, Young Men, the way of your land
Minds embraced by the winds of a Western world
Abandon your own
As eager bands study thighs of women you've never
Met before this fake tiled floor of this bathroom Gentlemen, you call yourself a TURK

Have you any idea what that means?

Learn the 4k” century
Learn the way Inonu graphed dirt

THIS IS NOT, YOUNG MEN, THE WAY OF OUR LAND
Where children are planted, raised from their roots by the SON
Like lilacs in spring
Flourishing
With the sunrays vibrant wings as angelic Kings
Flaps of Gold Sultans and emerald rings
Where children, who screamed the lyrics of Muhammad’s Qu’ran
Danced with Jesus Christ before crucifixion
Reciting Bible verses, Hail Mary’s and the Nicene Creed
So when evil tyrants march blowtorch village
Rake rape pillage sky of its fortitude
Our children clasp fingers as a brick wall

BUT EXCUSE ME THIS IS NOT, YOUNG MEN, GENTLEMEN, BOYS of ANATOLLA, the way of the Motherland

                                               Seninkiler- (Yours)              

For Can

I am no longer Yours
Now eskici (rag and bone man)

Frail; sucked the juice from the connecting
Tendons that pushed You to move

You dance no more
Because I am no longer Yours

Now You slip into a martini glass
Let body rise to surface of a mid-night
Rise just to lick the salt, wet, matted
To tip of paper

It'll break like feathers falling into air
The way these books smell

Remind me of water blue teatime rendezvous
When you’d come visit me before the earth
Closed her eyes; lulled us to sleep
As if we were just toddlers

Trying out our new bodies

           Derdin- (You used to say)
I do not ever want to leave this place

It feels so nice not to worry
Be frozen by Your warmth
Breasts beating heart against chest

           Degistiniz- (You've changed)

Zaman Geciyor - (Time is passing)
Konusacagimiz cok sey var — (We have a lot of things to talk about)

But I AM NO LONGER YOURS
We used to meet under the flailing arms of these black palm trees

When You couldn't make it for tea

So instead we met at 9
To hear the rolling thunder splash of Japanese monsoofis

We were sitting on the couch
Last I touched Your cheek
Leaned in for a kiss and fragrance
Erupting from the plastic wrap, crinkle
I laugh

Ciceklere Bastim- I squashed the flowers

Those flowers You once brought now stink
Something has happened there

And somehow your bones know a hard rain’s gonna fall

             Over-

             Saigon­-

             Tonight-

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