Clichés
laid in twos
glistening
with the sun’s pristine
melting their Koueider treats
their eyes
drown an Olympic swimmer—
deep blue of the river in its swiftly pace
deep blue of the melancholy in eyes of the heartbroken
they come back
and
forth
and
up… into The Platform Yacht
clichés
sundered in the presence of the Daffodils
mourning the blue
into the black
but they are still clichés
Clichés
in Family Land
or El Bandar
waiting
eagerly
until it hits 6
hands held
a cliché
over
the red chairs
mourning the sun
into the big screen’s light
then at 8:
one
strike
one
missed
down
the bowling alley
or
one hit
one lost
in 8 pool
or silly laughters

when you
slip
in Ice Planet
but they are still clichés
Clichés
strolling in Converse
over No. 9
a Crispy Mix
from City Crepé’s shack
or corn dog
at The Backyard
Shawrma
by the busy corner side
of Abu Mazen
maybe
you leave
unto Al Nasr Street
where you find it silly—
the size of a Quarter Pounder
through the Drive-thru
over
the Mexican Fil
that you
devour
in Chick Fil-A
or a Big Zack
from the Courtyard
you
sure
shouldn’t
have had
those
extra
calories
but you don’t care
because they’re still clichés
Clichés
lost
in alleys
that could only
look
the same

after you returned
from Tuesday’s training
at your favorite
Wadi Degla Club
or when you’re running late
from a failing shopping attempt
at Grand Mall
but still you got
that Schogetten and Lindl you love
dark
and white
from their candy store
and that was enough
to make
it worth it
but they’re still clichés
Clichés
as if you’re kids
chasing each other
down No. 7’s solitude
sneaking
a song
by Amr Diab
on the single headphone pair
you share together
sneaking
a touch
sneaking
a hug
sneaking
a kiss
sneaking
and sneaking
—and
sneaking
before 11
when the Metro
ends its shift
for the day
and you have to leave
that’s when you know
that it is
not

a cliché