When they say Nomad     I say Nude

Look at the geography 

of my body     Its stretched landscape 

of cellular November  & spring-like hairs

mirror shot   after shot  a map of 

briny diamond & sculpted magnolia 

polaroid on the bulletin board 

train stub, confirmation number,

flag of a father’s mother’s tree 

the muddy fissures of 

mountains have worn paths

in shade this x-ray of  

voice box & femur

indicate softly : to live 

as the world  rotates under crust    

takes  conviction   

suited  well   below  the rock

and  it’s hard place 

the first language I liked 

writing best were 

the colored pictures

my mind could make 

of home 

When they say Nomad   I preface 

With all that has been inside me

 seedy pine   Granulated blood 

 A thick bone    Of homeland   

rippled red-tape   

a dream   I am chasing out the womb

In any country  it’s wrestling 

with what you  ultimately will become

the bill.  It’s  wrinkle. Your grandmother’s shadow. 

I set ashore when they say Nomad 

& wonder if  Foundation 

Begins with digging   Or 

maybe construction:  

A couple of leafy date palms

A one walled prayer room

to let all of God  

inside  nation’s place

A basin of water 

In the courtyard

To see a 

familiar face

---

Yasmine Rukia is a Lebanese-American experimental poet, professional social justice bore and the reigning meme queen of Metro Detroit. Her hot takes exploring the nexus of arabesque america, womxnhood, taboo, islam and pop culture blurring the lines between fiction and futurism can be found on PaperMag, TheRedFez, Cliterature, Jaffat El-Aqlam, and others, including her IG theflowerofcarnage.