a poem

Birthright Israel Untitled #1

They're turning to me.
Looking at me.
Prying from me,
arguing with what they've pried.

I see myself as a tower,
the barracks of a thousand insurgents
who are pitched in battle within my walls;
the turret can't contain them all.

I can't give them what they want.

I don't want to give them the satisfaction.
I am not called "disaffection."
And as for me, I say to my name: 'let me be and get away from me.
I've been fed up since I spoke and since your adjectives grew.'

You have me playing that foul game of representation
and I play along because its better than the simple denunciation
the sanctioned point-of-view presents without so-much-as complication,
under the corner-crimped-smile that says, "we're here to answer every question"

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