Choubidou

One stray cat wanders outside 

the cafe, the one where the waiter

tells me about his orgasm, I mean, 

the minty vodka drink he gives me for free. 

I say I don’t drink and he returns the ravioli 

plate with the fried egg in favor

of something more halal. 

He blows vape air in my face, asks

where I’m from. His mom is from 

the same village as my dad. 

The village is deep in the mountains,

the last place the French occupied. 

Upon arrival, they planted 

a gendarme base there–to maintain pacification. 

During the war, the villagers blew it up. 

Berber pride! the waiter says intently.

My dad tells me that once he asked 

If I go to the top of the mountains, 

would I be able to touch the sun or moon? 

I bring my arm up to my nose, 

I can’t stop myself from falling.