January 6-12, 2003: Pearl Pirie and Michael Muhammad Knight

Bio (auto)

Pearl Pirie lives with another biped and 2 cats in Canada`s countryside near Kemptville, Ontario Her day job is in newcomer settlement, teaching ESL She has been writing poetry for over 20 years She recently had the pleasure of attending the Geraldine R Dodge Poetry Festival, along with 17,000 others More of her poetry can be found at www.PageHalfFull.com

The following work is Copyright © 2003, and owned by Pearl Pirie and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsover without written permission from the author.

Bubbles Should I try to take them back and catch them? It was supposed to be relaxing us sitting watching We Renew elastic to the gasoline-bowed thinning hope before dissolution It’s hard to let them all go, to float, to pop, to be beautiful and just be pleased by them, not watch for what winds they are revealing, forecasts foretold Bubbles blown is an exercise in remitting control Even knowing it, I protect their infancy, hold off blowing as a breeze gusts Still I stand and try to bend the wind with my shape, make pockets to guard the bubbles Position myself to make them fly over the house, higher than trees, higher than me, seen, like fragile sterile prodigies. Peacekeeper two cotton wrapped stones jostling, no sulphur sparks spoke, but the cloth wears fast. Eleven Last week, I nearly walked in on her and her mirror, its collar showing hastily rubbed away kisses As unsteadily as a spring river she gushes forward then freezes between the frozen bed beneath and snow kissed air In recluse, does my little girl parade in the ‘sissy itchy’ baby dolls her aunt gave and play with lipstick bought and hid with cigarettes and pictures of heartthrobs? During a sudden cold snap, morning traffic reports, radio news and any attempt at discussing, or hearing, each others views is caught in a white out of ’tis not!’ ‘Is too’ and ‘Not’, between her and her brother Nightly, she fusses her hair into braids (tighter than she would have ever let me do) and at that moment she storms off to change them, declaring them to be giving her a headache, tossing one last ‘It IS you know’ over her shoulder Every morning the tightly bound is unwound, cascading spring waterfalls over shoulders With her return, this morning’s sun fawns, helpless in some invisible snarl in her honeyed hair, and kneels, snared there among the waves that I hope the boys can’t feel, yet Beneath her farmhand reach for the hottest waffle, and a quickly made gone syrup pond, nipples lift too small pyjamas to midriff, bared jealousy sharpens my command to “put on a robe”, [in front of my husband] “at breakfast ” She laughs “why” and looks at me as if I’m the one who’s changing I repeat and she spins on her heel and storms a little snowy twister to get more clothes She does not understand: the self she knows is held fast in a woman now Yet neither did I at her time of life; my breasts and hips sprouting around a doll and popgun, all of us hostages of change We’ll get her new winter pyjamas tomorrow.

Michael Muhammad Knight
mikail316@hotmail.com

Bio (auto)

Michael Muhammad Knight’s first novel, Where Mullahs Fear to Tread, has been disapproved for distribution in Singapore by that country’s religious authorities His second novel, The Furious Cock, circulates from the trunk of his car and locally-owned book/record stores in Buffalo, New York His work has appeared in literary journals and zines He has also drawn over one hundred album covers.

The following work is Copyright © 2002, and owned by Michael Muhammad Knight and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsover without written permission from the author.

Turkey Bacon My friend Siddique had a son Siddique so we called the dad Big Siddique and the son Little Siddique One day Little Siddique asked Big Siddique if Muslims could eat turkey bacon “Why would I want an imitation of that which is forbidden?” Big Siddique replied One day we were eating ice cream and the Qari asked Little Siddique if it was Muslim ice cream “How can ice cream have a religion?” Little Siddique replied Allah de Sade Ya Allah, with Your permission I will fall in love with a beautiful kufr girl Ya Allah, with Your knowledge I will stick it in her warm hole Ya Allah, please do not hang stones from my balls in Jehennam.