Joel Josh Laura – draft

7 Jun

Below is the first draft. The parts will be split between a collaboration of Josh Judson (phone), Laura (mirror), and myself (passport). This draft will change a lot as were all taking this as a starting point and rewriting our parts:

I saw my face on the news
Behind the army, Behind my family
Behind my father, the general
Everyone was behind my father
Maybe it wasn’t me
I’m too close, I’m reflecting

When I throw the last one off the roof
I make a plan incase of fire

Phone: Mother it was next door,
My neighbours are terrible
The English are terrible
Father I’m sorry

*lights off briefly to show the passing of time*

My passport was stolen
I can’t come home
I know I know I know
I need more money
That was stolen too
I know I know I know
I’ll come home soon

I know I said I’d go back
But I’m on the roof again
Burning paper against my lips
The passport is safe
Nationality : Kazakh
What does that mean now I’ve been
To Dubai and sat on English roofs

I mean what is..
What is real?
passport isn’t
I am the worst Muslim
I know

I can’t rhyme in any language
My heads too full
I’d back the army
In English
And the people in Russian
And the Quran

Phone: I’ve changed my mind
Wheres that passport
The number you’ve called is…
No not now
Mirror:Smoke from the drainpipe
The roof
Passport: Grab the Quran, go home.


I’ve worked the passport role to this. It’s nowhere near finished:


I have your identity tattooed
Across my chest
Why are you in Europe still
Your education is finished
And the money lives in Dubai
Not this draw

I have your face at the back of my mind
Don’t shy away from that picture
For it is clear
Everything was clear in …….
I know you best,
Who else but family and god would stick with you for ten years at a time
Who else will travel with you
To places we don’t belong
And stay here in the dark even when the purpose has gone.

You can’t even buy horse meat here
Pah… The animals…
Don’t keep me in this top draw next to…
the bible of all things
This infidel has nothing to say that I want to hear.
Your landlord has some explaining to do, subletting Muslim space to Christian texts.

I don’t belong in an English draw
When you have no explanations
For Allah’s sake
Type my numbers into
The Emirates
And fly away from this nation
Of shopkeepers and drug dealers
Don’t act like I don’t know


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