last night i dreamed
or so it seemed,
a rachel corrie dream,
a vision of blond commitment
in the face of a death-dealing caterpillar.
last night i dreamed
that israeli aggression was just a bad dream,
that a legacy of holocaust
could not produce such a horrible scheme.
israeli politics is not all the people,
but the people in power
can enjoy a long shower
while, over in gaza,
there is no water to grow an olive orchard.
over in gaza, people are bullseyes with skin,
skin the color of an olive orchard,
dreaming their day of freedom is at hand,
after sixty years of being pushed off stolen land
after sixty years of holding out a desperate hand.
olive orchards in gaza
are fertilized by white phosphorus shells,
houses are built with the fragments of cluster bombs,
cars are constructed to resemble tanks-
and yet these are the crucial weapons
that people in gaza do not have.
perhaps gandhi got it wrong:
how can an eye for an eye
make the whole world blind
when a whole race of people
is what the world
has left behind?
