The Enemy of Sleep

A Poem Dedicated to an American Empire Mounting Over Palestinian Dreams

This Wall is Wailing All Night in Our Sleep [Photo by Dan Burton on Unsplash]

Our technological advancement is our moral decay

Unleashed on Gaza

as it quietly buries.

Lulled to sleep by our riches,

we watch the dream of anger subside.

Far away voices,

muffled by rubble,

lie without water,

waiting to die.

There is little panic on these smooth streets I ride,

drifting over these glimmering metal highways of western divide.

We cannot hear our American voices,

crying out to those dying,

because the dream of our anger subsides.

Newly paved dirt ensconces the New City,

unnamed in Netanyahu’s mind,

a grid of future avenues, made bright,

by the glimmering machines

that bulldoze the rubble of Rafah,

Disappearing Gaza.

Throughout our night back here,

the last temptations upon us,

our American struggle that wrestles in out heart

is when we stare at the menu of choice

between which cheesecake flavors that guide us

as we’re slowly losing our voice of foundational reason,

our anger has gone out of our outrage.

Our media’s morals bland to the droning starvation,

We soften our interest in crumbling tent cities

where a million now live barely breathing.

It is our moral obliteration finalized, not theirs.

An exported horror,

Our Stars and Stripes have crumbled their ancient homeland,

by guided bombs assembled in our American factories,

tucked away in the wheatfield Heartland,

in the sweltering cities of the South and of East Jersey,

where orders come through Pentagon emails,

the casings collected,

the powders and fluids stuffed in the shell’s bellies.

They are shipped off. Free of charge. American

warship planes carry them delivered direct through the twilight,

relentlessly over the seas,

to widen the rubble into deeper tombs.

This business is graphic.

The taxpayer pays,

fearing to see the result of America’s wasting away

of an entire people on a mound of pure destruction

we’ve robbed of life from.

Gaza goodbyes.

History seems to remember

only the White of the Holocaust jungles

that have spread around the earth

for centuries with an insatiable thirst.