Where are the warblers of Gaza?
Now silence is your new ghazal.
Your boats and bathers have no coast,
Iron Stings are your only shells.
Your olive groves are uprooted,
Jackals disfigure your gazelles.
Muhammad’s forebear and St. George
and your children share the same tel.
What happened to your Gold Market?
Once it was filled with syllables
of lovers and mothers-in-law,
but now with ancient ones. They sell
their heirlooms, memories, and pasts.
They need cash to survive in Hell.
O, your warblers and your sunbirds
have swallowed all your lost ghazals.
.
Duane Vorhees
.