But I think I've nailed it this time ...
He brings a harsh heat into the room;
stones among sand: "You see me?"
I nod, reach for the warm whisky
as he hunches down on the chair
with the snapped back, almond mouth
bitter within its shallow beard.
He says: "I need a vengeance. My grave
has room for another, a brother
to lie in his furrow by my bones.
I can pay you in camels, or goats."
The sun in my dull mirror, it hangs
off the broken window, bloods clouds,
marks a fall. From the street, a shout;
a coil of flamed headline; the bark
of a car. "Am I your brother's seeker?"
"These are good camels," he smiles,
"keen in the snout for water."