Lost in the City
When moving from one state is not just moving from one state to another but it means getting lost... and feeling the hair is growing on your face!

A) After one and half hours of driving to find my place of peace (better to be known as the place of boxes) also known as the apartment we rent in the Washington D.C. area since we have moved down here... I am ready to collapse. It hasn't been my day. First I receive a bill for $1,007 from a university I attended few years ago -- which I had faxed --still have the print stating the fax is sent out to them to tell them I drop the class... but apparently they have lost the fax!!) then I have to drive round and round the city... and finally stopping in the middle of the street to ask an officer… how to get where I want to go... now... the funny part is... every time we passed the White House (and we passed it some 20 times... seeing it from different angles) I would hear the little girl crying out excitedly: I want to see president Bush, Can we go to see President Bush? But why can’t we see President Bush? I want to see President Bush. I know him. Please?

B) On Friday I will be on hunger strike alongside many others to show support for Ahmad Batebi.


C) On another note... I don't know how it is with other poets... but I have this poem “For Women of Afghanistan” that I wrote in 1999 and was first published in 2000 while the Talibans were in power... and since its publication it has had a life of its own... it has been translated, taught in classrooms worldwide, used in paintings, art works, and more... recently I was contacted to be informed it will be presented as my work in amnesty international. How is that for a poem that has a life of its own... I say a good one.