she channels the earth
her skin petrified wood
born into a marbled texture of sound and dust
her hair the parched twine of a tumbleweed
spread across the floor, picked up and reassembled
like a wispy broom lying in front of a clay Berber houseand as her song comes forth she channels the spirits of old desert women
teeth clenched against the bitter residue of a headscarf
taut against a wide solid head
her back twisted, aching
spinal vertebrae atrophying
in a sudden sclerosis of historythe nameless women who have walked the streets of
Tamerza, Tozeur, Medenine
dipped in music, encased in light
and placed on an airy mantle in Carthage
A (poetry) review of Neyssatou‘s performance at Creative Commons’ “Sharing The Spring” concert in Carthage Tunisia.