There have been moments when I did not think we’d ever see a launch like Waiting for Frank Ocean in Cairo. I began Half Mystic out of my childhood bedroom seven years ago, & the COVID pandemic came close to shuttering this bright dream of a project. To witness your gorgeous faces on Friday felt like daybreak, all of us clear-eyed & clamouring, present & possible. It was Half Mystic’s first book release in two years & our first live event in the U.S.—& talk about a comeback record. Thank you for packing the space, & for so beautifully echoing the energy of every one of our performers. This collection was born out of a search for something bigger than the silence & static. On Friday, I think we came close to finding it.

Hazem Fahmy’s Waiting for Frank Ocean in Cairo, out now, weaves the lyrics of Frank Ocean’s discography into a poetic account of four years of shuffling, a catalogue of the constant in-betweenness of being caught in the middle of two places across an ocean. Exploring themes of family, gender, & the attempt to find meaning outside the confines of the state, Fahmy’s sophomore collection uses the singer’s iconic music & persona as a guidepost to a firmer understanding of the self & the spaces that define it.

This launch wouldn’t have been possible without the performers & organisers who donated their time, space, & energy. We owe our fathomless thanks to the generosity of Nook, the coffee & craft beer parlour that let us use their stunning space for the evening; Anthony Thomas Lombardi, founder & director of the Word is Bond community-centred reading series; Ohio Martinez, whose new album Problem Child is out now on all platforms; DeeSoul Carson, author of the poetry chapbook Running from Streetlights; & Elijah Mann, whose single “Clementine” is available to stream everywhere you get your music. A special shout-out, also, to H/M’s managing editor Danie Shokoohi & to friend of the press Ray Scheinman, both of whom provided invaluable support in organising & executing this event. We wouldn’t be here without you all.

Finally, we are deeply grateful to the journalists, bloggers, & editors who shared reviews of Waiting for Frank Ocean in Cairo as part of the virtual tour leading up to launch day. A few of our favourite quotes…

“It is in the gap between the tangible music of the sanctified singer and the empty promise of his return that Hazem Fahmy’s Waiting for Frank Ocean in Cairo takes shape. The poems in the collection span both time and space, condensing both into a series of images that landmark the continuities of constant movement. … Ultimately, Waiting for Frank Ocean in Cairo is a beautiful collage of interiority and exteriority, as Fahmy warps his own trans-continental experience around the beacon of Ocean’s art. The collection is about Frank Ocean, but it’s also about what Ocean’s music is about: needing love, needing touch, being vulnerable and tough and masculine and queer all at once. Fahmy’s command of language and imagery turns the words on the page into something as moving as music.” A review by Grace Novarr for Columbia Journal of Literary Criticism
“I am learning to call / things disruptive instead of radical. Once, hair, sweat / and bad breath became the monikers of the night, / and it was intoxicating. My fear of the mosh pit / never left. I never wanted a single house to be / my world. I am still learning to forget the house / I learned to cook in. The house I stopped speaking / of love in. The house I learned to trust / hands other than mine in. The last couch I slept on / said something about where I was with my father then. / That time, I listened. The cold walk home could be a slow / hell, but it could also be a still kind of heaven. I no longer / await the day I will be happy. A stupid kind of progress.” Three poems by Hazem Fahmy for the Half Mystic blog
“This one really hits the sweet spot, for me, of skillful yet accessible. The personal / narrative subject matter and the straightforward syntax make these poems easy to understand, while at the same time they are deep and complex enough to read many times over, having a different experience each time. There is some magic going on here. Sometimes the emotions hit me before I could process the words. The collection is real, raw, honest. If you read poetry to dive into another person's psyche, complete with their thoughts, senses, stories, desires, longings, heartaches, obsessions—give this a try.” A review by Elliot Riley
“Fahmy is more than just a fan of Ocean. In these poems, Fahmy and Ocean are creative equals in dialogue with each other, exchanging language and ideas. … It feels as though the poet is holding his breath through most of this collection. He waited for the release of Blonde. He waited for his father’s rage. He waited for Americans to ask him about being Muslim and for his relatives and friends to ask him what kind of American he’d become. He waited to belong somewhere and to someone. And then: ‘I no longer / await the day I will be happy. A stupid kind of progress’. Gradually, Fahmy begins to heal himself and his relationships. The collection does not exactly end on a sound resolution, but that’s not necessarily what Fahmy desires anymore. He’s leaned into the healing powers of love, forgiveness and community. In the swarm, Fahmy has found some sort of stable footing.” Ivy Clarke for The Mercer Cluster
“This poetry collection will make you think about how certain experiences (and even artists, albums, and songs) shape your life. I was easily captivated by Fahmy’s words, and the way he so seamlessly strings together memories and experiences with specific lyrics from Frank Ocean songs. … I, like Fahmy, connect with music on another level, and am drawn to the beauty and rhythm of delicate strings of words and lyrics. In one poem, Fahmy recounts a family argument at home in which he avoids by turning up the volume on a Frank Ocean song. Music can heal and drown out the pain and hurt in which we are exposed to, and even if only temporary, memories about music’s healing powers have the ability to stick with us for a lifetime. Fahmy writes: ‘I wanted the fleeing ecstasy only possible in the minutes of a Frank Ocean song.’ He reminds us that music can heal, support, and mend us, but at the end of the day, it can only do so much. I think that no matter what we are going through, what journey we are on, or what we are seeking in life, we are all in search of a feeling — a feeling that comes from music that makes us feel most alive.” A review by Carly Kwiecien for Read With Carly
“So many of the poems in this book are ones of observation, of family, friends and familiar spaces that grew odder as I grew older. Part of the driving force of the project was the interrogation of that eeriness. I was trying to understand: had leaving Cairo somehow altered me on a fundamental level such that the mundane and quotidian now seemed strange? Or was I, in a sense, destined to reach an age where something as simple as my family’s living room became eerie? Now, I can see that all this questioning came from a deep sense of love for my family and all its contradictions. It was, in turn, my family’s love which gave life to these poems.” An interview with Hazem Fahmy for the Half Mystic blog
“I think this is the most creative poetry collection I’ve read in years. I love music and how it can move you, and even though Frank Ocean isn’t amongst my favorite artists, it was still amazing to revisit his music from a whole different perspective, one that invited me to live through it. I would recommend this poetry collection to people who like melancholic songs—those that make you want to dance and cry. It’s hard to read this book and not be moved.” A review by Andrea Valcárcel for Andrea’s Galley

Waiting for Frank Ocean in Cairo is out now in both paperback ($15) & PDF ($7) format. It finds its birthright in distance & euphoria, in what we owe our heroes, in the holy ground of music & the ways it falls short. This book builds a saint out of the present while at the same time honouring the things we’ve lost to get here. After all those years of searching, we’ve found ourselves in a place with no more fences. I’m starting to think the wait is over. I’m starting to think we’re finally home.

From the Editor, & the Launch of Hazem Fahmy's Waiting for Frank Ocean in Cairo