I am a coward
I don’t understand
what it means to dream in Arabic
and rap in a foreign land
and the life and the love and the
strength
that powers on
through and again
that I see and I watch
through my three inch thick screen
wider
than that you know
that keeps me in touch
but still out of reach
there’s a tongue filled with grouse
far, far away in a wooded retreat
where I can cry
into my vodka
wishing
I was marching
through a funeral parade
a gas confrontation with
spears in the air
but somehow it doesn’t make sense
like my cowardice
my lowly retreat
is what everyone’s dying and
killing for
and it’s all a mistake
everything’s fine here
where hearts yearn to live
no battle no struggle
no anger no hunger
no matter what else
I float in my sleep
and dreams
they crawl all over me
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