My mother tongue’s the language of cement.
I’ll never chirp ‘tis beauty truly blent
to flatter; I’ll be no one’s Barmecide,
who ever seeks the ugly truth to hide
behind a glittering and dreamlike veil
that is as coy and costly as is frail.
I’ll never bow to the obscure! Though my
untutored eyes can’t light up every lie,
yet every day I learn of more and more
as I walk down doubt’s hallway toward truth’s door.
published on the umass amherst poetry club blog in october 2018