My grandfather took me on the hajj
We circled the Kaaba the required seven times
Then he packed my family up and we moved to Skokie
Always he spoke of the old ways
Lamenting that his great-grandchildren
Likely would not do the hajj
Or ride a camel
Or smell the desert
What does he want?
I go to his mosque and my children will go
When they are old enough
as far as he knows
He died of a heart attack when my oldest boy
Spoke of walking seven times around The Bean in Chicago
And said that was enough hajj for him
And in Skokie I visited the Catholic church
With my wife who only converted to Islam on paper
Forgive me, jada,
I am buried at St. Peters.
NOTE: This one might be a little problematic.
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