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The Committed

By Hazem Fahmy

When I say “a Free Palestine in our lifetime” I mean it
is your moral duty to believe the last shekel has already been printed,
its destiny a glass frame in a museum next to a dollar,

euro and sterling, all reduced to mere paper, fragile
memory, small thing you walk by and might not
even notice. When I say a “Free Palestine in our lifetime” I mean Sinai

will disappear into the Naqab again, Gaza a bus ride
of snores and muffled laughter from Cairo, Gaza
where I will buy you fresh mint tea as you slip

bread to the street cat tugging at your pant leg. Gaza,
Gaza,
Gaza…

Never in my days of ceaseless weeping have I pitied you,
ya Gaza. O, holy city of survival, graveyard of empire’s
hubris. No, I pity the settler, that desperate rabid dog

chasing his sad little tail. I pity the dupe who believes
his feeble attempt to kill you will not kill himself. And he will kill himself,
ya Gaza. He will die un-mourned like the Rhodesian

and the Pied Noir––inevitably forgotten, a measly footnote
in a story where you live. And you will live, stubbornly, you
who harnessed the sun when the settler believed a power cut

could shutter your light. O, city of divine martyrs, progenitor
of the Algerian rifle, the Mau-Mau rifle, the Warsaw rifle, you mountain
of silver bullets tearing the rancid flesh of fascist wolves’ apart. How

can I pity you, ya Gaza, when your breath is the fire
that unmakes the paper tiger into ash? No, I pity the lesser
of two evils, the child murderer whose name is destined

to be a curse on tongues that carry you. I pity nothing
in the land of the Palestinians, only the wretch who would stand
against them. Never call poor a people who cannot be bought.

Who will you become in the absence of currency?

 


 

 

Listen as Hazem Fahmy reads The Committed .

Added: Friday, October 4, 2024  /  Used with permission.
Hazem Fahmy
Photo by Jess X. Snow.

Hazem Fahmy is a writer and critic from Cairo. A PhD student in Middle Eastern Studies at Columbia University, he is the author of three chapbooks: Red//Jild//Prayer (2017) from Diode Editions, Waiting for Frank Ocean in Cairo (2022) from Half-Mystic Press, and At the Gates (2023) from Akashik Books’ New-Generation African Poets series. A Kundiman and Watering Hole Fellow, his writing has appeared in The Best American Poetry 2020, The Boston Review, Prairie Schooner, Mubi Notebook, Reverse Shot, and Mizna.

Image Description: Hazem Fahmy is in front of blurred trees and greenery. He wears a red, orange, grey, and cream-colored striped shirt. Hazem looks at the camera with a slight smile. 

Other poems by this author