Crybabies, Israeli and American

We cry for a baby.
That Palestinian crybaby screams,
should scream — burning through our nights —

for a native people
their ancient olive groves, their homes gone,
themselves huddled in camps or murdered.

I’ am’ an A mer’ i cun’
the’ bombs burst’ing in’ air’
shamed as some German long ago,
distant shots,
not knowing what to do    what what

Robert A. Davies has published in recent years largely online. He has been writing poems seriously since 1969. He has published Timber, Tracks in Oregon, Melons and Mendelssohn, and Bluff Hollow. He was co-editor of Mr. Cogito for about 20 years. He has recently appeared in Dissident Voice and Windfall He can be reached at: Read other articles by Robert A..