In Place of River I’ll Use [God]

By EZZA AHMED

Ten days behind my tongue
summer in the diasporic, 
riding thick in the smell of [God]
and fresh cloves.

By [God] I mean the monsoon season
where water appeared in snake-like streams 
erasing all traces of my
present tense.

I guess I didn’t mind,
because the ground would wet into a fresh mirror
which really meant that I was
[God ?]

And I know, when [God]
calls out to you,
you only look back once. 

 

[Purchase Issue 31 here.] 

 

Ezza Ahmed is an educator and poet based in New York City. Her poetry is concerned with diaspora, memory, and water (rivers, creeks, lakes, etc.). Her work is in The Idaho Review, Ginger Bug Press, Sycamore Review, Apogee Journal, The Michigan Review, and Adi Magazine. 

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

In Place of River I’ll Use [God]

Related Posts

Book cover of Making the Turn by Wyatt Townley

Dancing on the Ceiling: Meaning Movement in Wyatt Townley’s Making the Turn

AIDAN COOPER
Perhaps “Wedding Vows” epitomizes Making the Turn: a falling that becomes, or rather makes itself known as, falling together. It considers surrendering control and finding oneself an instance of a larger, universe-spanning tango. The whole book does this, flowing with direct, dizzying specificity

Podcast: Liz DeWolf on “Ex Situ”

LIZ DEWOLF
Liz DeWolf speaks to Emily Everett about her story “Ex Situ,” which appear in The Common’s spring issue. The story follows an American living in Istanbul, navigating the end of a relationship, and the appeal and alienation of living abroad in a layered, complex city. She also discusses her process and revision methods, the themes she often returns to, and her work as a nonfiction book editor.

Headshot of Brionne Janae

September 2026 Poetry Feature

BRIONNE JANAE
did you keep your mind? / you got to walk it for yourself / and on returning what state did you find it in? / as in what state were you in? / were you where you left yourself? / and who was left? / was anyone left? / and how sure were you that you could reach them?