Azra Abbas SIX POEMS TODAY WAS A HOLIDAY One arm hangs limp and empty, the other bends under a load One foot has gone to sleep the other half itches for the road Half my body nods in a dream the other half holds a wake I sold for pennies my inheritance Spent one-half of the life's take and put the other half in a bag I left the doors unlatched, threw a cloth over the dusty panes, swore roundly at my floundering days and nights then let one half-awake body make love to another half-asleep HANDS LYING ON A TABLE The hands lie on the table I lift the hands They remain lying on the table and laugh Ifs difficult to lift with one's own hands one's own hands lying on a table I pull with my teeth They can't be budged They remain lying on the table, scored with toothmarks, mute, staring I stare back My eyes fill with the table's color I close my eyes I rest my head on the hands lying on the table then fall asleep Annual of Urdu Studies, #7 45