If you give blood in the desert you won’t/Get it back…
-from “After” by Fady Joudah
This doctor poet has volunteered his time in field hospitals in Sudan. I was thinking it looked like a makeshift surgical suite, the hide opened and laid neatly flat on each side of the carcass like a sterile drape when they butchered that camel with daggers as sharp as scalpels. Adam Hamid was beaming, his hands as blood red as a boiled lobster claw, when he said, Lahma, Meat.