Breaking News We know death is futile know death as 3.5 thousand retweets a trauma a thing named empty in internet measured in the slow bend of your fingers clicking the quiet tempo of expiration your spleen in the shape of a gun in the shape of a pen I am going door to door collecting story I place a tape recorder at the edge of a child’s stroller and watch her position it between her teeth chew on story and argue she’s agent of her own story I dream of america as nightmare as child placing drone in mouth as mother placing drone in child’s mouth to condition her tongue to the taste of america I see you door to door in eviction court I attend and a judge asks to see my face so I show her my blood at the edge of survival an audience of w(h)it(e)ness Sir, why are you being evicted which system what history I know your trauma is a thing we’ll name breaking news your trauma a hunger we crave your trauma behind a paywall your trauma we measure with clicks I document futility to feed america more story muddled by story there is a child crying in front of a pink wall as her home is demolished in Palestine it moves one to tears to watch your own reflection on a screen your face in anguish at another’s pain looks so sweet almost heroic.
Noor Hindi (she/her) is a Palestinian-American poet and reporter. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in POETRY, Hobart and Jubilat. Her essays have appeared or are forthcoming in American Poetry Review, Literary Hub, and Adroit Journal. Hindi is the Equity and Inclusion Reporter for The Devil Strip Magazine. Visit her website at noorhindi.com.