Wednesday, February 2, 2022

The Workers Love Palestine by Zaina Alsous

The Workers Love Palestine

 
The week before the SUN announced hospice
my great-great-great-great-grandchild the harpist announced:
 
         WORKERS OF THE WORLD
             JOIN THE STRIKE FOR GUARANTEED LIGHT
 
The florists union in Caracas and the Algerian weavers presented joint proposals
 
             TOWARD ILLUMINATION THAT MULTIPLIES
 
Bare hills, lakes of salt sutured dim ruins
shadowless
of shipping yards and empires of memories of sarin
 
The children's council listened in wreaths of yellow iris,
patterned leaves designating each role
 
Did you know that within attunement to effort
the end of monument resides?
 
Then the harpist, my progeny, that fate I had so long evaded—
debt I owe to demographic warfare
 
and names sliced open, reborn in disfigured repetition—
sang three hundred years of returning
 
 
 
Language is merely the placeholder
for what the LAND has always known
 
Species being is an observation of MOM (preface)
Absent the wet painting of a razed village (sold)
 
This land is land
Land is land
                                       LAND LAND
 
 
I AM COMING
HOME



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