[an extract]
We thought this orb was god seeing us
there were 38 maritime vessels
they were all ocular if they chose to be
let us establish a fact:
eyes are for seeing
naming is for subjugating
a vantage is an equivocated belief
a border is shorthand for retreat
some said it was a tragedy
as if there were no fault to lay
I mean the faultless stars
the vessels — some we can name:
Méndez Núñez
Borsini
We are Eritrean Ethiopian Nigerian
Sudanese Ghanaian
all the things they confiscate: our water, our food,
our SIM cards, our jewelry
The Maritime Rescue Coordination Centre in Rome
sent calls
every 4 hours
for 10 days
the math a facsimile
of our need
maps our waning living
an unidentified helicopter
lowers
biscuits and water by rope
they photograph us on mobiles
and view us through binoculars
there is the Cypriot vessel
Italian
Tunisian fishing boats
we are too black
too abject
our yearning too evident
the ugliness of our need
we waited for an aristeia
supposed it would come
some mighty force would
belie what
the fates wrought us
it was agonizing
imagine:
all our hope a
warped vessel
our bodies mere deadweight
Asiya Wadud
© Asiya Wadud, from Syncope (Ugly Duckling Presse, 2019)