The Fortieth Day Book

In Islamic funeral traditions, as stated by the author's notes, the fortieth day is when the spirit of the deceased takes leave of the body, and a second commemorative service is held. Specifics of this tradition are lacking but one can only imagine the questions that arise: what occurs at the second funeral? how do the relatives of the deceased mourn during this period? and perhaps, what, (or where or what's the right question?) does the soul do during this time? Perhaps as an exploration of these questions, this is a collection of waiting, of mourning, and of attempts to bridge the distance between the known, though miniscule in comparison, and the unknown.

"dear God of blankness I pray to dear unerasable" (Lostness) begins Kazim Ali's second book which can easily be read as a book of prayer and philosophical and spiritual meditations on a life that inevitably and mysteriously must reckon with a God.
The book is intent, and successful, in reacquainting me with the paradoxes of the world. Intimately he refers to these mysteries as "dear afternoon God dear evening God my lonely world…dear Lostness" (Lostness) or "dear disappeared, dear desperate…" (Dear Sunset, Dear Avalanche). Written mostly in single lines and couplets, as if a ghazal, each phrase adds sound and image to the one previous and absent punctuations, Ali forces you to taste his images, his pace, and his contradictions. In "Morning Prayer," he prays

what's in us that reaches
to know what's after

should I draw the spirit
as a lantern or a cup

Or "Vase" from which "…the nothing inside flew up, // a listless prisoner, tethered, a spy" bringing us to the dailyness of the life, "May I request evening or more rain?/Doing laundry, getting new tires -…" (Afternoon Prayer).

At the same time, he is convinced that a poem isn't just a series of pictures, saying, "less collage, more song" (Garland) and argues for something that would weave and connect life with its realities. In "Double Reed," couplets after couplets of disjointed experiences end with,

double reed means your moth isn't even touching the instrument
you are only holding a reed against another reed

Then in "The Second Funeral," appropriately halving the book, he continues his quest to bridge these gaps,

We will return in forty days…

In forty days our prayers
will have evaporated into winter wind.

What will then stitch the earth closed?

The journey finds itself in fasting (Ramadan); in previously explored images, now a title of a poem (Dear Lantern, Dear Cup); in letters (Suture) and more prayers (Night Prayer). Finally, the book ends with a poem of departure (Four O'Clock) where an old man, who will only be missed by his granddaughter at four o'clock, wanders the streets with a mouthful of chocolates and recitation of religious text. It brings us to the inevitable fortieth day when the soul takes leave to an unknown future. It ends,

Dizzy with all the changing directions. It's a minute before four.

Where did I come from? Which way will I be borne?