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I was introduced to Boyah J. Farah by Somerville poet Kirk Etherton at Bunker Hill Community College, where Boyah and I both teach. He had quite a story to tell, and I was lucky to have him share a poem with us for the LYRICAL. Boyah J. Farah is a refugee turned writer from Somalia whose works of nonfiction have been featured in The Guardian, Harvard Transition, Grub Daily, and Truthdig. A Judy Layzer Fellow, he is currently taking the Memoir Incubator at GrubStreet Creative Writing School in Boston.

 Words Made You.

Boyah J. Farah

A gaze of a woman. A pose of a man.

Glances between them. Partly gray and partly blue sky.

An invisible aroma of flowers in the air.

Standing. Sitting. Holding ice cream cones.

A walk in the park. Holding hands. Eyes sparkle.

Stomachs turn. A shared butterfly flapping its wings in their bellies.

The pose of the man. The gaze of the woman.

Eyes sparkled. Smiles crossed their lips.

Ice cream cones in their hands.

Love blooms. Red rose stick out from the brown sand.

Hearts hummed. Walk. Sit. Stand. Stare at the ceiling.

Four legs interlocked. Hands moved. Her eyes up.

His eyes down. Breathed in. Lips shivered.

Breathed out. Stomach cramps released.

Forehead sweats glistened in the light.

Smiles hovered over the faces.

The sky moved.

The gazes of two hundred seventy three half yellow suns passed.

You moved behind her belly. Stomach squeezed.

Mother’s touch. The air tightened.

Eyes leaked. Smiles glowed.

She screamed. Push, you heard. You screamed out.

Your lungs tasted the air.

Your name is picked out of words.

Oh words. They made you.

— Boyah J. Farah

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To have your work considered for the Lyrical send it to:
Doug Holder, 25 School St.; Somerville, MA 02143
dougholder@post.harvard.edu