There is no Instagram feed
Worthy of worship, sharing or liking
But Allah.
And
Facebook
is
not His
messenger.
We are woven together,
In ways that continue to transpire
Through cyclones and earthquakes of time
Laser beads of prayer,
A golden necklace around the world
Ziyarat untill Qiyamat.
A womb with a view.
Oh you in unmarked graves,
despairing feudal, national, capitalist slaves,
May He fortify and inspire you
To upend the situation that mires you.
And you, walnut whip in your hand,
Making things worse,
Are a boil on the bum on a missionary.
In the passport queue for Neoliberalistan.
