An Empty Vessel
Remi Kanazi is a poet, a writer, and an organizer. He has been a leading voice in the movement for cultural boycott and leverages his visibility to propel the movement. Most of all – Remi is a delight to work with. In the middle of the war on Gaza last summer, I roped him into a project I began visioning. Not only did he enthusiastically jump on board but he also took part of the lead in the most graceful way. (Our project should be live and in the public universe by the end of this month- keep your eyes open!) Recently, I had the pleasure of reading his forthcoming book of poetry, Before the Next Bomb Drops: Rising Up From Brooklyn to Palestine (Haymarket Books). Though I casually sat down to read it, each verse made me sink deeper into my chair and helped unleash a cascade of relieving tears: in anger, in mourning, and in hope. I provided this blurb for the forthcoming manuscript: “Remi’s verse is a series of indignant letters to the passersby of our historical moment who thought they were minding their own business but who, in fact, are perpetuating the problem with their privileged complicity.” I’m excited for the book to be shared with the world. For now, he has given me permission to share the following piece with Verso Books’s audience.
An Empty Vessel
no more
gruesome images
nails across faces
generations collapsing
on themselves
a father ripping through rubble
coated in blood
caved-in rooftops
immersed in the musk of death
no more cries
crashing inside ears
like cymbals
can’t unsee
can’t stop
from happening
this is massacre
Shejaiya is everywhere
this is annihilation
infants in pieces
this is a war crime
the beach is bleeding
she wants her husband back
stop dehumanizing our men
she wants her best friend back
stop killing our fathers
she wants her baby girl back
stop robbing our cribs
you incinerated classrooms
the morgues are overflowing
knew it was a shelter
white flags drenched in flesh
shelled the building again
children stuffed in ice cream freezers
knew what you were doing
the earth is still swallowing us
you are not the victim
not the narrator
don’t get to tell us
how to process our pain
you are swindlers, terrorists
fascists fiending for our limbs
read the reports
become sick with yourself
you are everything
you levied against us
should be ashamed
Goliath on mass graves
yet you remain
an empty vessel
striding through a sea
of blood you spilled
cooking in the kitchen
sfiha in the oven
greens laid out
on the counter
artillery shelled
mangled body parts
scattered limbs
and severed head
couldn’t identify
what remained
wedding finger
still intact
child wailing
in the next room
#Gaza