Arabian Nights (Remix)
        Caracas, February 4, 1992

Tonight, a commander in olive
uniform declares war against
the background of a TV studio
—Now and forever, this revolution
will be recorded in the annals of history.
My mother's foot softly taps
on the floor and for a moment
the camera wobbles, but the commander
doesn't seem to notice. I clutch
my copy of Arabian Nights,
the cover scabbed and peeling,
trace the outlines of domed
palaces and flying carpets halfheartedly
colored by the book's
previous owners. Everyone
believes a silver-tongue, says one
character after listening to Scheherazade
lull the sultan to sleep. The commander
calls everyone to arms—Justice will
come swiftly to those who oppose us.
I consider my parents' warnings
—if we don't come home, someone
will keep you safe—their faces
flickering in and out of view
in the bluish light of the screen
while between the pages,
a woman gets to live another day.

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Copyright © 2022 Leonora Simonovis All rights reserved
from Study of the Raft
The Center for Literary Publishing
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission