The Plan

Remembering Ann

Whose beauty began

At the crown of her head

And ran to the deep underneath

Of her feet—

Never aware of her own élan.

Now, half mad with pain,

She crawls through her rooms,

Calling for doctors,

Falling,

Forgetting,

Consumed,

Trepanned.

Ever since the world began—

Star fall

Nightfall

Bomb fall

Downfall...

Read the scan:

Every woman and every man,

Once a flowered Palestine,

Falls blindly toward the Nakba—

Bald catastrophe,

Prescription—

According to the

Plan.