From the Fishouse

What kind of a name is that?
I invite you to notice that
is the sound of deportation.

My name is not contagious.
Is quarantine necessary?
Wouldn't exile be better?

I remember I'm from nowhere
but a spurt in thoughtless dark:
you've nowhere to send me.

It's French, I could say. Who knows
the difference? The difference is that
it's Arabic with French panache.

Jeh-lool, go on, try it.
Terrorists bear the name, scientists
and singers, and a few cashiers

can even say it without help
because they've turned their battlements
into condominia of hope.

What kind of name is that?
The name of a Saracen lancer
ghosting in the dusk of Provence
and the name of a citizen deported
a thousand times a year.