Day 190

How to speak about the unspeakable.
June Jordan writing about Sabra and Shatila,
1982: I was born a Black woman but I am become Palestinian.
Now we are all Refaat, I wrote.  Thousands, millions
of Refaats.  Not the first to speak that.
The unspeakable lies on the ground
beneath the rubble.  Bombs render the houses
unlivable, but rubble is good for hiding.
Unspeakable.  Unlivable. Underneath.  
I was born a woman but not Black or Palestinian.
I do not want to be speaking of this.
I do not want to name the child whose eyes
are full of shrapnel, the woman carrying her baby
to the ruined hospital.  Revive him! Revive him! She’s shouting
But all the doctor can offer is the prayer for the dead.
The baby dead. Refaat dead.  How
many others.   We who are still
alive, what choice do we have
except to keep speaking?