One of my favourite poems. Can't help it - I really love it. I hope Mohja Kahf will keep on writing poems like this. I should write to her...one fine day, Insyaallah.
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| p/s: thank you loveinshallah.com. |
A Man Who Washes Dishes
by
Mohja Kahf
I love a man who clears my table
I love a man who knows how to use
a wire scouring brush on my pots
till they sparkle so
He brings out my shine
I love a man who knows how to use
a wire scouring brush on my pots
till they sparkle so
He brings out my shine
I love a man who washes my dishes,
making small soapy circles with his manly hands
around the curves of my delicate glassware,
sliding lathery down the slimmest stem
making small soapy circles with his manly hands
around the curves of my delicate glassware,
sliding lathery down the slimmest stem
I love a man who moves patiently
around my kitchen, turning like a deft spatula,
remembering the places and purposes
of every latch, knob, and cubby
around my kitchen, turning like a deft spatula,
remembering the places and purposes
of every latch, knob, and cubby
I love a man who takes responsibility
in the tired aftermath of a meal
down to the wiping of the last counter,
chasing the last honeyed crumb
into the moist corners of the basin,
in the tired aftermath of a meal
down to the wiping of the last counter,
chasing the last honeyed crumb
into the moist corners of the basin,
neatly grinding the coiled peel of the final tangerine
He is not afraid to descend into the maelstrom of the disposal
and explore the sharp blades with naked fingers–
I love a man who washes my dishes
He is not afraid to descend into the maelstrom of the disposal
and explore the sharp blades with naked fingers–
I love a man who washes my dishes
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