The Borders of Gaza

The Borders of Gaza

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audio: The Borders of Gaza
audio of Thomas David lisk's poem, The Borders of Gaza

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The Borders of Gaza

In breakfast eggs I crush ghost bones and beaks
and send in tongue-loads of unborn idea-chicks:

Limber lives made and unmade, thought and lost,
the twisted dead of daily holocausts.

Bland golden ovals, suns to fuel internal war,
as if either saved or wasted lives meant more.

Willed to eat without an appetite,
I hope vindictive deaths are right.

My lips, however, feel the forming bones
of chick or child, and ghost life yearns
and claws my half-stopped throat till hope,
stuffed, chokes.  To breathe, I shriek and turn.

Identity comes out to meet me,
a horror worse than just one lifeless fetus.