I want to drive a Tank

If I only knew how to drive a tank
I would have borrowed one
from an enemy Or a friend
Everyone owns a tank but me

I would have taken you onboard
In a drive fit for this war
For you to see life as soldiers do
Through a rectangular opening in a door
Then you might find them an excuse for destroying your favorite church
Just before you denounced their God

They never saw God over that church
Through that rectangular hole in the door
Nor did they see him in the confession stand
Behind a wall adorned with vines and sins
But they heard of Him whenever someone shouted His name
"…."
They forced Him into their hearts and He forced Himself out

I would have taken you for a stroll over that minaret tossed aside in the street
Without it being a miracle
The minaret puts its ear against the street
Like a red Indian listening to the footsteps of those approaching
and those departing from far away to further still

If I knew how to drive a tank
My brothers would argue who would ride next to me

I've known
Since we lost the roof of our country
All tanks will also be convertible
We bared our heads
Our Chests
And waited for the heavy echo of the prayers

Like a man obsessed with cleanliness and prestige
I would have polished my tank
Even if its borrowed
And wiped the glass of the rectangular window
For a better view
A cleaner war
And for martyrs dying with all their birthmarks and in their real skin
After giving it back
I don't want a fair martyr to die because he looked darker in that window

We want our murders clear and pure
In three dimensions and intentions
Like a maniac
I would have pulled the shroud through the barrel back and forth
An active war deserves clean barrels
With no mud, no bird nests or white doves standing on them and clouding their focus
I do not want people to say "he ruined our war with his rusty tank"

A friend from the village stole a tank and took it to the river
It stripped naked performed ablution in the Euphrates and brought down a suspension bridge

They said it was a misunderstanding
The bridge saw the tank from above and thought it shamelessly erect
The tank thought the bridge a flying sidewalk
From that small rectangular window
It was infuriating not to see the ferric cords

The tank drew first

I was not brave enough
I only tattooed my tank
I wrote
"For you, my county"

I used to wave to my enemies
To my friends
To passengers
To mothers
To children
Not to come close
My tank gets migraines
I do not know when the next episode will attack

If I knew how to drive a tank
I would have allowed your room to slip from the second floor to the third
I would have misfired then and hit the minaret instead
It was the only reason the minaret tumbled down
The minaret is more deserving of that shell than your window
Haven't we learned after all these assaults
That the right cheek of religion can take more smiting than that of the heart?

They aimed towards your shawl to murder it
Those deviants loved seeing your neck in the morning

I will borrow it
Do not fret
The horn of my tank will not disturb you
While I wait for you on the street
I will fire a hundred and forty-seven shells while you finish your makeup
The neighbors will whisper
"Look, she made friends with tough guys"
Despite my weak heart
Despite my Russian-made tank
I would have loved you from my heart
Lying as I am in the heart of my tank

On my way to you
I saw a short yellow tank decorated with black spots
I was jealous and I missed you more

I used to fire a shell for you every time I thought of you
All the time
And you laugh
Only you know the reason behind this random raid
I stopped people thinking of you
I stopped mothers knocking your door
Do you know now why are you not married?
I'm still faithful to my word
You will not be another's
I am the jealous man with the borrowed tank

I sit in my tank
I droop my head to the ground
My barrel standing high over the minaret
"What have we done, Lord"
"How did we commit this vast road of death"
It would have been beautiful if I had you and a teapot and sat at the border
To protect it
To water it with what remains in the plastic cup
How elegant it would have been
If the bridge kept flying
If the shameless tank had covered its loins
How beautiful it would have been
If the tank broke down
If its roar became silent
And we heard our mother calling
"Come. We have watermelons and white cheese for supper"

On a sunny day, the tank flew off to God
It pounded and paved the road
And we crossed to heaven on a very wide street

On a sunny day, my loved one flew away
While I waved to her with the keys to my tank
I had a dried onion at the end of my keychain
I hung it up to make sadness cry if it ever came..

The phone cord was too long
Long enough for passengers to trip near me
While I flirted with you
And promised you a joyride in my tank
It was long enough for me to tie the tank
And drag it behind me to keep it from returning to its owner
My enemies, my friends
Owners of tanks, children of shells

Hamad Abboud