Poem-a-Day

A Fulani believes herself inevitably a bird fullburn. 
She will say she soon ascends, mistress over milks. 
As to the superpower: Her second stomach a steel.

What?  My bloodkind take active pride in tolerance— 
of lactose—inheriting the Lactase Persistence Trait, 
making-to-order Universe from 1 molecular milk.

Our insults involve enzyme—cowmilk curdles them 
that lack. We digest dairies, we cattle herd, we bird. 
I ask and it is explained to me: what milk has to do

with mass murder. I bathed in a bathtub full of full- 
fat milk and never felt more a monster. The second 
time you read the Bible through, it makes less sense

than the first, but still—try mingling milk & honey. 
I deserve none of the good rife things got in this life. 
To offer fresh cream on Saharan shrines is madness,

so we won’t do it. I fancy metaphors about Moon 
and more. I do not remotely adore milk metaphor. 
A light body alit in lait—life in lanterna ’til Aljanna:

In sha Allah celestia ever antiseptic/unsour. AMIN.