“Savage Sonnet”: A Poem by Zeina Hashem Beck
From the Author of O
We salvage ourselves. We savage ourselves.
Octobers mean grief, deep into our bones.
Can you spell worship? Do you mean warships?
Are family trees reddening? you ask.
When I say grief, I mean rage. I, mean strong.
I news-water my nightmares. I, blue song
who evaded at least two wars, can’t sleep.
What do histories say to holy books?
That we remain silent, fear for our jobs
when hospitals are bombed? Do you believe
walls sever memories? & is God there?
This didn’t begin with our people, no.
Ask any natives & they will tell you
the lands remember, even when tongues don’t.
The lands remember, even when tongues don’t.
Ask any natives & they will tell you
this didn’t begin with our people. No
walls sever memories. & is God there
when hospitals are bombed? Do you believe
that we remain silent, fear for our jobs?
What do histories say to holy books
who evaded at least two wars? Can’t sleep.
I news-water my nightmares. I blue-song
when I say grief. I mean rage. I mean strong,
our family trees. Reddening, you ask,
Can you spell worship? Do you mean warships?
Octobers mean grief. Deep into our bones,
we salvage ourselves. We. Savage. Ourselves.
