This is Not a Post about Boston

This is not a post about Boston. This is not even a post, as I can barely bring myself to write about all the mourning that is demanded by 90 dead in Iraq in 3 days, 5 killed by drones in Afghanistan. And thinking about the last ten years of Occupation, and the million dead. A million. And the Nation weeps for 3. So I can’t write a post about Boston, but I can do something much better, because Asam Ahmad has written the perfect poem. 

I no longer know

how to grieve

“innocent” American victims


I can’t remember how

to bear my head down low

and wring my hands and nod

in agreement yes,

this was a horrific act of violence,

yes, of course, violence is never okay


I can no longer bear

the violence of these

ritualized gestures,

the violence

of this language of mourning

reserved only for the upstanding

Citizens of Empire;

lives vaunted

and cherished,

infinitely more valuable

than the hundreds of thousands

of brown bodies that now litter

the Middle East because America

was too hurt

or too angry

or too traumatized

to see beyond its own

misty haze of grief


There is too much pain in this world

and I’m afraid

I no longer remember


how to grieve


One thought on “This is Not a Post about Boston

  1. Many of us grieve for all the bodies. I saw the day we lost 3, Iraq lost 33. I was trying to imagine what it must be like to live where this is an every day threat, not one every few years. I was sad that our needless meddling has caused the destabilization leading to the violence. I hate the drones. Most Americans have NO idea what is going on. But sadly, I know if you told them, a majority would not care. Those that I saw who tried to point out the narrowness of our grief in regards to Boston were shouted down and told to not bring a political agenda into this time of tragedy. Our media monopolies tell us what to care about – who to love – who to hate. Some of us, many of us, don’t listen. It probably isn’t enough to make a difference or turn the tide, but the only thing that grieves me more than the bloodshed is the hatred that feeds it. Prayers for peace.. true Peace.

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