Friday, December 8, 2023

Don't ask me how I'm feeling.

  Don't ask me how I'm feeling.

       Just don't ask.

Because I'm reeling.


No, no ask me...please.... ask!

     Because I’ll tell you

even if  you don't inquire,

even though I'm drained

of all routine desire.


I want to tell you. I really do.

     I don't want to be alone

emoting so much blue.


 I need to report it.

     Or should I say, deport it.


What is the right word

     for all my anguish?


What explains this weeping?

     This mood unrelenting, creeping

as a shadow 

follows me around


from my bedroom to the kitchen,

     From the market to the plaza?


I know the diagnosis—it is Gaza. 


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