Messages after Rafah

What happens when we are trained
to label those different 
as ADHD
as Neural divergent
as Bipolar
as Schizophrenic?
Is it not the alternative viewpoints 
that test and sharpen our concepts of morality?

During the trial of Eichmann, 
he found the murder of Jews 
to be distasteful.
For the collection of skeletons
sterilizations
killings by gas
was a medical matter. 
A question of "Hygiene and Health."

For Eichmann only ever read
Theodor Herzl’s Der Judenstaat, 
the Zionist Classic, 
which converted him 
promptly and forever 
to Zionism. 

The reason for the gassing of Jews
was to find an enlightened way
an efficient way
to solve the Jewish Question.
Therefore, is it not humane 
to question how we must accept 
and love what cannot be accepted?

As we are lulled 
by the promises of capitalism, 
as comfortable petite bourgeoisie, 
we must bear witness 
to precisely the disturbance, 
the unbearable, 
the distasteful, 
                                the abject.

But how do we bear witness
as generation "Like"?
For "If you like this, 
then you’ll love that," when 
the destruction lies in 
“If you despise this, 
then you’ll want to genocide that"? 
Is this not how epistemicide 
engenders within?

Is it truly so surprising, 
that today, we lynch the other
not with nooses,
but Boeing JDAMs,
and Pine Bluff Arsenal's White Phosphorus 
that we sit and cheer with deck chairs
and smile for our Polaroids?

Historical photo of the day: Sderot cinema, 2014— “Sderot cinema” is a name given to gatherings at a hill in the Israeli settlement of Sderot, where locals gather since 2009 to watch Israeli bombings of the Gaza Strip, applauding when explosions are heard and seen. The British Times has also referred to it as the Hill of Shame.

“This is where they lynched a negro the other day. They don’t know who done it. I guess they don’t care much. I don’t, do you?”

A liberal is one who is against every war 
but the current one. 
#ProgressiveExceptPalestine. 
Is it, not subjective violence 
that we then fetishistically watch 
and share the disaster porn of yesteryear 
whilst patting one another back 
with disdain of our predecessors? 

What would you have done during the war? 
Be afraid not of the grandness
of imaginary evil,
but the banality 
of the disinterested.

Be afraid not of the hysterical, 
violent protests,
but of the quiet, 
vacant avoidances 
of the affluent. 

He wrote me,
I’m sorry.
My mother had an operation
And what should I say to him?
A man who waved proudly
the Ukrainian flag emoji,
like a sports club,
throughout the first days 
                of this genocide.

During which
they wrote me,
                   Shame on you
and
                   think of the 
                    white
                    white
                    white
                    blue eyed
                    women and children
for  
              this
                 is
        Europe.


What is there to say
to a person who sees suffering
as a Zero Sum Game?

And so the white man wrote,
Sorry for my radio silence.
as I sit in the canteen.
Tracy Chapman on a playlist
                   Sorry
                    Forgive me
                    I don’t want to wait
                    Until they are all dead
  to mourn.

  The Germans protested in the early years 
  against Hitler's euthanasia programs. 
  But it was when the word for “murder” 
  was replaced with
"to grant a merciful death"
  to avoid “unnecessary hardships.” 
  For it was unforgivable 
  not for killing, 
  but to cause 
"unnecessary pain."

Through the brutality of language, 
We have bypassed 
the watchtowers of conscience. 
But who carries the treacherous burden 
of memory?

The song transitioned:
   She leads a lonely life. 
   When she woke up late in the morning light
   and the day had just begun
   she opened her eyes and thought
 “Oh, what a morning”
   It’s not a day for work
   It’s a day for catching tan
   Just lying on the beach
   and having fun
   She’s going to get you
   All that she wants
   is another baby
   She’s gone tomorrow, boy,
   All that she wants is another baby. 

So what do I respond with?

I’m tired of these games
I’m sorry.                                            You’re sorry
But none of these words         shall resurrect. 
 
Are we truly impotent
against the Spirit of Time?
I have no more words
                                      and so
Goodbye
It’s all in a day
One day in a life
It’s all in the one word
The one word is goodbye

For me
It's all in what you say
You've tried to be kind
It's all in the words
From the lips that once touched mine with a sigh

Goodbye
For you
It's all in your face
The laugh and worry lines
It's all in the word
You hope will make you young again

Goodbye
It's all in the play
Someone speaks the line
It's all in the one word
That stops and steals the time

Goodbye

As I leave the canteen, 
my eyes glued to the screen:
                                                                                        hanging of a half torn child
                               a boy bagging peices of his father into a recycled plastic bag
              a mother searches through a mound for strands of her daughter's hair,
 a teenager carries the dismembered leg of his baby brother through the Rafah.


The songs of our prison camp play on
And she'll tease you, 
she'll unease you
All the better just to please you
She's precocious, and she knows just 
What it takes to make a pro blush


                                                                  So
give in
                                            let it break you
let it radicalize you
                                     there’s nothing left
to return to
                                                     to remake.