Friday, November 10
SAVAGE SONNET We salvage ourselves. We savage ourselves. Octobers mean grief, deep into our bones. Can you spell worship? Do you mean warships? Are family trees reddening? you ask. When I say grief, I mean rage. I, mean strong. I news-water my nightmares. I, blue song who evaded at least two wars, can’t sleep. What do histories say to holy books? That we remain silent, fear for our jobs when hospitals are bombed? Do you believe walls sever memories? & is God there? This didn’t begin with our people, no. Ask any natives & they will tell you the lands remember, even when tongues don’t. The lands remember, even when tongues don’t. Ask any natives & they will tell you this didn’t begin with our people. No walls sever memories. & is God there when hospitals are bombed? Do you believe that we remain silent, fear for our jobs? What do histories say to holy books who evaded at least two wars? Can’t sleep. I news-water my nightmares. I blue-song when I say grief. I mean rage. I mean strong, our family trees. Reddening, you ask, Can you spell worship? Do you mean warships? Octobers mean grief. Deep into our bones, we salvage ourselves. We. Savage. Ourselves. (Zeina Hashem Beck)