Pour Cesc: Four Short Poems for Cesc Fabregas
Airs, or, Dramatic Monologue of an Emirates Sideline Chair
What a mournful seat
To the Fans
cling to your privation
like a child at its mother’s heels.
I stay and yet
they say to stay,
stay onward with ever
waxing vigor. I ask
to where and what for,
and they reply that it is
of little significance,
the thing is to stay,
and I plant a foot,
and I kick up a heel.
A lupine man, who can glance
between a line of hell and of heaven,
and espy the marked masses from Al-A’raf*,
as if caught between clashing magnets that deny their likeness,
fixes his gaze away and justifies himself.
* in the Qur’an, a barrier that separates paradise and the fire