THEM (Palestinian)
by Eileen Myles
They had
beds &
rooms
they had
socks &
babies
they had fire
they had a
toilet
they had a
book
they had
school
they had mous
taches &
cunts &
bellies
they had
feet &
toenails &
arguments &
friends
they had
hot soup
they had
hunger
laughter
pain
cellphones
they had kids
they missed
each other
they came
home
I’m not
sure about
this
but he
was killed
in his
house
with his
family. I
tie my
shoes.
I’m going to
the gym.
Through
this horrific
experience.
I’ll bring
my recyclables
down
contacting
people
try every
few
minutes
to call people
from Gaza.
My toe hurts.
I struck
it against
a chair
in Tempe
Many
medical
journals
are writing
about genocide
in Gaza
& think
it’s okay
I have nothing
for the
baby. I randomly
sob
we’re not
seeing
the support
from the medical
community
they ignore
the calls
they don’t
say Israel
he has died
they don’t
say he
has been
killed.
I can’t find
my head
phones
or the band
for the
clamshell
I make tea
tossing
cards into
an imaginary
future
in which
my handwriting
& my
political
thoughts
are con
sidered
this is prose
war is
prose
the coldness
of my
pastimes
is poetry
my safety
the what
has been
torn
away from
my fellow
my neighbors
my friends
is Palestine
is poetry
poetry is home
& the loss
of it. It being robbed
from a
child
or the children
of the nakba
who 75 years
years
later as
an old man
walks south
from rubble
home
streaming
tears
tears are home
(continues…)
Eileen Myles (they/them) is a poet, novelist & art journalist. Their most recent books are Pathetic Literature (an anthology) & a “Working Life” (poems). They live in NYC & Marfa TX.