04/22
untitled poem about palestine, horniness, and why racism in the other direction is not the answer

You and me, we’re like Palestine
like two alien states who’ve been here this whole time
And just now is when we start
negotiating our relationship

We fight like fuck cause we’re so alike
and you will never, ever back down your
defenses when I’m around
and I keep offering you peace,
but you want something else along with it
and me, I’m like Ariel Sharon
I don’t want to let you in that far

Last night I awoke
to find you and me entangled
in a pile of arms and legs
your knee at my groin, rubbing
and all my dreams
had been apocalypse dreams
where we’re just looking for the shelter
instead of summoning a storm

yeah, you and me and Palestine
the terms of our settlement
as uncertain as the possibility
of an earthquake in San Francisco
you stayed over to go to a rally
and we ended up enmeshed
I walked by and a man attacked me
Two middle fingers held at nipple level
Because I looked too Jewish

You played with my nose and I awoke
To find your fingers there
Tracing out the terms of my surrender
Like my Jewish nasular profile
When we’d spent the whole night
Sleeping on opposite ends of the bed
Like a full-body veil, suddenly
Shed, I’m sorry if I’m being racist –

-- I’m not usually good around people --

every time we talk I know
you’re a human bomb waiting to explode
and suddenly your hands are where
they’ve never been before
seeking a peace unconditional
of anything I believe,
this is how it should be,
sharing the space of our bodies,
I’d like to put Sharon and Arafat
in a bed together
and have them wake up at midnight
entwined like us -–

cuz my legs have been like
the border to Ramallah, never
letting anyone through
and your hands are Palestine
and without thinking,
I open.