My Grandmother's Wounds

I am being thrown from the depths of centuries Carrying all my grandmothers’ wounds Combat boots marked my head with terror my back bruised with the lashes of my man’s old belt I am being thrown from the depths of centuries With infants hanging from each side Sucking on my milkless breasts Their urine unkoshers my religious purity inherited from my grandmother’s time I am being thrown from the depths of centuries To throw hateful words at my own children It avenges my life of a dead person It comforts my purposeless time I am being thrown from the depths of centuries To live the life they have destined for me The men who are not even from Persia Those bearded strangers who stress their “Zaad” at the time of worship I am being thrown from the depths of centuries To be weak so my man can call himself strong And to be a mother to my many unwanted children So he could brag about his fertile manhood to you all And for his God to reward me at the end a paradise To watch him making out with the good-looking cherubs I am being thrown from the depths of centuries!