again a few times, but why am I bothered by this part of the poem?

"drunk kids crawling into the unlit alcove
to smoke and fuck in the small hours."

Maybe the f-bomb was the bomb that rocked Cairo. I would recommend you listen to the poem as well. This week the poet does a much better job, to my ears, than the malaisadasical reading style that seems to be all the rage on Slate’s weekly page. The poem is enhanced by the poet’s reading. Interesting choice of poem, given Holy Week and all; must be a secular audience.