Intifada

Snaps and hisses
Rip the air around me.
Brickwork adorns my nest,
My shield of detritus,
Protecting me from
My enemies.
Here on these dust-coated streets,
Liberation runs from
House
To house,
Seeking a mind and body to
Consume,
Send to fight,
To lift from the shackles
Of occupation,
Colonisation,
Mental destruction.
Streaming white light falls
On the schools, hospitals, homes,
Pushing me into the open
Opportunity of
Intifada –

My hands now clasp
Russian wood and metal,
I hurl lumps of steel
Back across the fence
Keeping me in.

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