Palestine
We housed them in prisons
For they wanted a home,
We killed them for they wanted eternal life
Then bulldozed their prisons into fields of corn.
What's that hand sticking out from the earth?
Other hands will sprout from it—
And tickle us to death.
Copyright Credit: Navakanta Barua, “Palestine” from Poetry vol. 190, no. 5 (September 2007): 393.
Source: Poetry (September 2007)