i feel awful bear—anxious muted head stuffed heart closed in fear. last night i thought i could die in clutter and dust not knowing. 

 

And if sometimes I want,

In my imagination, to be a little lamb

(Or to be the whole flock

And wander over the entire hillside

And be many happy things at the same time),

It's only because I feel what i write at sunset,

Or when a cloud passes a hand over the light

And a silence runs away through the grass.

                                                                                                                                       Albert Caeiro  

Keeper of Sheep       

 

 i read a palestinian person's account of trauma. the personal and the collective. i haven't lived there but i have lived here. the thread between the personal and the collective is hard to trace. israel creates a system of "maintained uncertainty". it's the same here, under watch, and  the illusion of safety in conformity. and the knowing there is no safety individually or collectively in a society of doom.