The Party

By Fadhil Al Azzawi
Translated by Zeina Issa

No one was absent.
Cain sharpens his knife in the kitchen
in the living room, Noah follows the
weather report on television.

They all arrived in their cars
then disappeared in the long alley
heading for the party.

Farther afield, on the dance floor
a pretty lady in a sheer dress
swayed seductively.
We sat with the guests
sculling our drinks, drunk.

Going home
at the end of the night
we returned to the blind his lost cane
and to the murderer his bloody axe.

It was a party
like any other.