Maghrebi thunder on a thundering plateau,
raw sandstorm coming to earth, to you,
weak window plunder, crack sprouting in birth,
ochre wind, hot tawny grain coming on cue…
wrought-iron bridge, sifflanting train on a bare track
running from Oran past slit pillbox, weary railway platform
coal mining aridity now chewing on rust, time going back
a Béchar early morning airstrip of bleak misery, barren hate
half-turning Peugeot biting, crunching into salt flat by Boughtoub
the sandstorm obliterating third gear car number plate.
a churning ground pepper gusting ballet, stinging bleach eye,
micro-waving sand busking on empty road, stoking talent to choke
long distance taxi, the Naama-Oran coach going by
machine gun motorbike, tough leather Gendarmerie
walking to or from town, teeth grinding cloth mouth
plateaux cuisine, brochette chicken, baguette, couscous, mint tea
the Taghit wadi merging with the desert, the erg occidental climb
the rock painting men who came by way back in time,
the whole being thrown apart by the weather, now here.
