I would chew it night and day,
if I could.
In sedate cyber-land,
we innocently name it Chat.
But here, where I live,it's more like khat,
and addictive as hell.

They say it's mild and not dangerous at all.
Then, why does my heart drum
like a trapped black bird
under my ribs?
why does the kissing sound of each stripped leaf
race the blood in my veins?
And why is one leaf never enough?

I would strip a whole tree,
like a goat stretching into a tamarisk,
grinding its teeth sideways
at mouthfuls of acrid green,
staining its mouth
with runnels of narcotic juice.

Like a goat-
a goat with yellow eyes glazed,
its vertical pupil-slits dilated,
its searching lips kissing at the furthest leaves,
its stained teeth grinding,
and the hungry gurgling of its hollow belly
mesmerizing.