Issue 6 – Huggins

Peter Huggins

Open House

In my apartment building
In Montreal the Sufis smiled
When I passed them on the stairs.

The Sufis made no noise, had
No loud parties, drank no wine,
Ate no spicy food, lived

A contemplative life.
Late at night,
I heard the Sufis chanting,

God is fire, God is fire.
I shivered, then sipped
Boiled coffee and kahlua

As I resumed my reading,
Hard Times or Phineas Finn,
The Making of the English

Working Class,
Crime and Punishment.
When that building burned,

I followed the Sufis up MacKay,
Chanting God is fire, God is fire.
They danced to hear me sing.