antigone 11

Poem and photograph by Fargo Tbakhi.

when power decreed that body un-grievable,
everyone made mourning like a pet.
we filled apartments with chatter. we made heaven
our subtext. naseem his body draped
across the border fence. the tunnels under gaza
overflowed with the things we smuggled in (food,
bullets, fire, nothing) and out (music, bodies,
bullets, fire, elephants, poetry, nothing).
antigone her body draped inside the television.
anywhere’s a grave if you dig deep
enough. trying to make our voices
convincing enough
to sleep.

 


Fargo Tbakhi (he/him) is a queer Palestinian-American writer and performer from Phoenix, Arizona. He is the winner of the 2019 Ghassan Kanafani Resistance Arts Scholarship. He is a Pushcart nominee, and his work can be found in Cotton Xenomorph, Mizna, Cosmonauts Avenue, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Peach Mag, and elsewhere. He tweets @YouKnowFargo and probably wants to hold your hand.