Henna's like Mulberry Stains

(I decided I like henna because it reminds me of having mulberry stains when I was young)

Sip sweet tea, drip from the pot, slop onto the paper placemats

Black ink runs gray on my doodle drawl childish hieroglyphics

Bent toothpick stars, faded playing cards, black pepper magic

Rafa token toking Rif mountain kif pinched in a thin, wooden pipe

Tagine steam, cigarette smoke, Hindi movies on mute and fairy lights flash

Moroccan music jumbles call to prayer and call to mother Africa

Stones and scraps, blue and white checker board, night sinks in

Lean close, whose turn?, diagonal jump over hot harira

Olive pits in piles, bread crumb shadows dance by candlelight

Wit, wicks, and wax melt, develop diminutive in approach to dawn

I query simply asking for help suddenly peeling potatoes

Elbow deep washing dishes, boil tea water, serve and smile

Brika (lighter) flick flick-a spark the stove and head spin hot box

Back room kitchen bender, a week of restaurateur, realized dream

Communal wood fire oven hang out, sweets and marriage proposals doled

Crackle twigs, plastic crate throne, awaiting baking concoctions like a local

Hike through fields of fingery leaves, wild mint, ripening vegetable livelihood

Tea, almonds, peach jam and sunshine, swallows sing, greedily I embrace breezes

Seek peaks, stumble descents, scramble up trees, spin, swirl and tangled on swings

Market day with chef and crew, greasy fish and chips sandwiches on low plastic stools

Stories, lies, and truths mix, fade, and swell unsure of beginnings, lost to endings

Chefchaouen magic, expeditions flickering flame on my memory

(The Big Rock Candy Mountain)

Breath caught in chest, airport reunion, lost croissants, a day on the train

Past and present skins stretch, selves collide; oil and water or something soluble?

Conference of art, youth, international, poetic, site-specific, bourgeois pioneers

Return to the Big Rock Candy Mountain, a week from Market Day, what luck

Indian inspiration, a trio of bohemian boys, Spaniard, plus the Professor

Rooftop guitar, drums, hands clap, homemade hot air balloon drifts into the stars

Short term wonder at instant companions for food, music, magic, adventure

Prepared my perfect breakfast, watermelon drip, bread, oil, honey, fresh fruit fancy

Honey comb thick crystals in a Nescafe jar, dark verde oil coka cola bottle warmed in morning’s sun

Perilous journey along the Monkey Man’s path lost, but Professor’s a blazed trailblazer

(Last Night in Rabat)

Yeum al-couscou sayyid (happy day of couscous) a return to Rabat for last goodbye and full belly

Cake, tea, and henna swirls the room, my hands laced in design though crumble off orange for hours

Rabbati sunset, harira search discovers back alley cafeteria, embrace the triumph of the unplanned

Concrete circus swirls with smoke, grilled meat, garbage and sweet.

Bubbles float past, rainbow colors dance, pop

Train ride confusion, Bert and Ernie cookie, woman for nookie, uncomfortable touching

Woman shouts Spanish names, her true profession unveiled, chunky fake jewelry, ticket in cash

Shirt sprayed and soaked by prostitutish perfume, propositioned? Unsure, so sorry, so stumped!

Midnight in Fez, reservation gone, business ethics and propriety sold for instant cash

Family riad alternative, bed like bricks, breathe it in as line for later anecdote

Hot sun, hard goodbyes, eyes seek out ferry escape, Spain awaits

Moroccan magic mystifies my enchanted heart, inspired by reality and possibility

Understand the self can’t be undone, experience without ending only evolution

Shukran,

Kelsey

PS- pictures http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2037607&id=35501566&l=9000264024

PPS-

For a belated/early mother's day/father's day gift I decided I would fill my bag with colored pencils, paper, candy, and pens and dole them out to the children of The Big Rock Candy Mountain. I only have this one picture of some of the kids who live on the mountain with their goods, but I made sure to attempt to explain that this was a gift to them from my parents. Al yeum al mama waa baba. They were too distracted by the paper to care. Happy Mother and Father's Day : )