A Poem On Being Palestinian

I am us
I am a people yet unborn
I might be born in September of the year 2179.
I am sad and I wish I did not exist in the present
I wish to be in the past or a different time
I will hold several group exhibitions on several planets
Including Jupiter, Saturn and Mercury
I am considering three individual shows on Mars, Pluto and Planet Earth
I am nameless and formless
I have no value at this point in time
You might find me dead in a tunnel by the Egyptian borders
Or a street beggar in Nouakchott
Or a garbage disposal in Jabalia camp in Gaza
Or a bag of cement in Abu Dis
Or a rosebud on the Pacific coasts
Or a bird choking with oil on the Persian Gulf beaches
I am your brother, I am nothing, I am a coincidence, I am a tunnel, I am a tank, I am a bag of flour, I am a destroyed house, I am a bleeding wound, I am a gas container, I am a limping cock, I am an ambulance car, I am a wall waiting to be knocked down, I am a tin,
I am a tree losing a branch every day so they cook food for their children,
I am a destroyed pavement in Hashem’s Gaza
I may be corrupt, may be courageous, may be kind, may be miserable!
I am tired