Step into the crater of East Africa and meet the grain of sand from Sindh. Eat pearls from Indian Ismaili ginans and attend to the True Guru. Aglow with post-colonial loss, wryly defiant of what they are admitting, the poems in Kabir's Jacket Has a Thousand Pockets describe a warm estrangement and salty gratitude for being on Earth. It's not war-reporting and Ayaz doesn't solve crimes. He doesn't have his head in the lion's mouth. He draws from Kabir's Bijak, Ghalib, and the oral granth and ginan tradition to plot a lifelong and generational immigration.