fat, black,

fat-tailed scorpion

trapped, clicking in a glass bottle

in the junk yard

in Rabat –

beside the speckled

tar-flecked beach


mom calls my brother

then me

the white adobe

home pulls us

and the glass jar disappears

in a weave of hands

hey, toss my soccer ball back


the red god dips

his head under the ocean

so blue and blue

forever out there

beneath the golden purple

angels in the sky

and a white crescent smiles under the earth

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