For The Arabs In Israel

We Are Captives Of What We Love, What We Desire, And What We Are.

We Suffer From An Incurable Malady: Hope.

I Learnt All The Words Worthy Of The Court Of Blood So That I Could Break The Rule I Learnt All The Words And Broke Them Up To Make A Single Word: Homeland.

I Want To Find A Language That Transforms Language Itself Into Steel For The Spirit--a Language To Use Against These Sparkling Insects, These Jets.

Poetry Is Perhaps What Teaches Us To Nurture The Charming Illusion: How To Be Reborn Out Of Ourselves Over And Over Again, And Use Words To Construct A Better World, A Fictitious World That Enables Us To Sign A Pact For A Permanent And Comprehensive Peace ... With Life.