fall asleep on a short couch
awaken
to the absence of drones
/ / /
26 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 26
Category: Palestine
Disappointment
A three-by-three grid
with one slot unfilled,
the perfect size for a flyer.
Driving by later
to see the space still there,
the lowest bar not crossed.
/ / /
23 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 23
Flowers
The monster toppled under its own weight,
taking many of those it had terrified with it.
As the creature decomposed, returning to soil,
crops sprang up in its place:
ripe fruits shining in the sun;
nourishing greens covering the earth.
Where once had been screams there were songs,
knitting the past to the newborn future.
This is the way of monsters and of what follows:
Fear will lose to flowers.
/ / /
17 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 17
Catastrophe
buyer’s remorse
remorseless
you break it you
fire sale
fire
fire
fire
by her remorse
more or less
you break
you break
fire
/ / /
5 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 5
I worked as a reporter and editor and broadcaster for NPR and Bloomberg and Nikkei and Kyodo News World Service and a number of other outlets in both the US and Japan. I loved that work because it felt important. Even sacred. I know there are tons of problems with the way news is owned and reported, but back then I knew less about that, and in any case from the inside it felt different.
Nothing I was ever involved with can compare in any way with what we see journalists going through on the ground in Gaza. Elsewhere, too, of course, but my attention is focused on Gaza right now. I think about how much I felt connected to the mission of reporting, and I imagine how much more connected they must feel to be reporting about the attempted destruction of their own land and people.
I listen to Al Jazeera every day. Part of many of their broadcasts involves their journalists reporting on the deaths of their colleagues and their colleagues’ families, and even on the deaths of their own families. It’s more than anyone should have to endure. The fact that they keep doing it speaks to a strength I can barely comprehend.
they leave us
nothing but our bones
stamped into the mud
/ / /
25 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
her back hurts
from lying on the ground
shred of clothing on the breeze
/ / /
21 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
For Bisan
Leave a Commentreporter / rocket / running
/ / /
20 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
even if you squeeze
your eyes shut:
cries from the rubble
/ / /
19 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
in Khan Younis a boy
holds an empty soup pot
no more haiku
/ / /
18 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
Meanwhile
“our colleagues are being killed
at the bedside of our patients”
meanwhile:
a toddler cannot stop shaking
as an aid worker
or maybe just a random civilian
gently strokes the side of her face
meanwhile:
an IDF soldier holds a machine gun
above a line of naked men
their hands tied behind their backs
their clothes in a pile in the street
meanwhile:
his head drooping, beard filled with ash,
the man in the PRESS vest wonders
how much longer he can possibly continue
meanwhile:
a car pulls over to the side of the road
two women in hijab hand a tray of
blueberry muffins out the window
to a lone protester
they wave and drive on
/ / /
7 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
Virginia/Gaza
We move boxes and couches, beds and lamps.
We pause to eat pizza and drink lemonade.
The kids help or play or get tired.
As we near the end there are gunshots
in the nearby woods. Hunters, or target practice.
The next-to-the-youngest one
asks if they’re fireworks.
We all say yes.
*
They move with nothing, to nowhere.
They keep their hands raised as they walk
but the soldiers shoot anyway.
There is gunfire everywhere.
There are explosions everywhere.
Flares set fire to the night
so the soldiers can keep shooting.
The next-to-the-youngest one
digs her baby brother out of the rubble.
/ / /
2 December 2023
Charlottesville VA
Palestine Corner
One is a beekeeper.
One is barefoot.
One is from the Bay Area.
One is Kuwaiti.
One is a daycare worker.
One is from Iraq.
One is a boxer.
One is a nurse.
One is a newbie.
One is an old head.
One is a singer.
One is a guitarist.
One is trans.
One is bi.
One is a dad.
One is a mom.
One brings coffee.
One brings honey.
Cold mornings.
Rainy mornings.
They hold signs.
The cars pass.
/ / /
22 November 2023
Charlottesville VA
Vigil
We stand on the street corner
because we can’t turn our
bodies into shields.
We stand on the street corner
to force other people to look.
We stand on the street corner
clutching our paper signs
and our cardboard signs,
looking into the eyes
of the passing drivers,
hoping for recognition.
We stand on the street corner
with our fathers and our daughters,
with friends and strangers.
We stand on the street corner
for those whose streets run red
with blood and fire.
We stand on the street corner,
praying to awaken
from our collective nightmare,
to discover it was all a dream,
that we are safe in the arms of loved ones,
that all we hear are birds
and the laughter of children.
/ / /
7 November 2023
Charlottesville VA