So-and-So

Translated from the Arabic by Abdelrahman ElGendy

     

So-and-so brushed
my shoulder as gunshots
cracked.

So-and-so: I never learned
his name, so I called him
cousin, and that was
enough.

So-and-so, who shared
his last bite as hunger
fissured my song.

So-and-so, a blur
who saw you safely
through the square.

So-and-so, who frisked me
with a grin, asked,
“Is he really
stepping down?”

So-and-so who told me
to “Fuck off, then,”
when we said we
were too tired to stay.

So-and-so behind the wheel,
who—when he asked
“Where?” and heard
“Protest”—waved
off my fare.

So-and-so who swore he’ll fall
by tomorrow. We’ll dance, laugh.
What a night it’ll be!
So-and-so revving up
his Vespa, cutting in
and out, picking
up the fallen.

So-and-so, in the line
of fire, sends his friends
back and holds
the front.

So-and-so, who passed me
bottles, tightened the caps
after I filled them
with gasoline.

So-and-so who sipped,
then asked, “Thirsty?”

So-and-so, face blooming
with shards.

So-and-so, who tossed me
a blanket and asked,
“Room beside you
on the curb?”

So-and-so, who marched
for justice.
So-and-so, who marched
for bread.

So-and-so, who never made it
to TV, whose voice beat
with the chant’s heart.

So-and-so, who went home, ate, washed.

So-and-so, faceless in the crowd.

So-and-so, who soaked my scarf
in vinegar, then hauled me
when the bullet
found me.

So-and-so died that day—
someone owes him
blood. The son of So-and-so,
who devoured
his flesh, raw.