Domestic Cigarettes in a Foreign Cigarette Box

For I.G.

There
cars are white,
the sun is not for bathing under.

Beneath a ceiling fan,
animals part with themselves,
lumps are stuffed into a machine,
pulp is bulldozed on the counter top,
it’s a sin to not eat.

Men, inflating their cheeks,
increasing their name,
within their mouths are conceived
dependents.

Aysar Ghassan lives in Coventry and was a ‘core poet’ at BBC Contains Strong Language, 2021. His poems feature in Poetry Wales (forthcoming), Ambit, Magma, Poetry Birmingham, The Interpreter’s House, Under The Radar, The Lampeter Review, Strix and The Scores. In 2022, Aysar was a Room 204 mentee with Writing West Midlands. Aysar enjoys spending time with Alice, walking and gardening.