Gaza: Year Two
Sina, we’re called
Upon to speak
A friend sends
Photo of hand
Raised in conflagration
Of Gaza hospital
Says we were
Talking about Radhika
This was mother
And daughter burning
Is it like this
In the afterworld
Outside the box
Ashes scattered like
Glitter for saints
Gleaming faces turned
Up where artists
Hang on trapezes
Let dust fall
To be boxed
Later / Murphy’s ashes
On bar floor
Down theater toilet
Don’t know to
Laugh or weep
This world burning
What do you
Say, dear Sina,
On after-death apps
Maeve killed bird
Yesterday / I buried
It in dumpster
Bryant found rat
Foot in old
Trap in Volcano
All this blood
On our hands
Our claws / Sign
Bomb and let
It rip apart
Kids who can’t
Yet read and
Old women with
Eyes too fogged
To see anything
Beyond clear suffering
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