Life without tax
Life without evaluation
Life without action and exploitation
A real living here carries the baggage of meaning and legacy
I guess that’s why people move here
In peace there is no need for action or settlement
There is no movement
I even went to an anti-war protest in America
Something to do with the American people thinking their politicians would kill more Iranians again
Likely
Like they had ever stopped
I asked my mother what the commotion was about
She said something like, ‘Fuck it anyway, they’re all fucked’
But in another language
I was at this peaceful protest in the middle of winter
Proud to be among my new-found political army
As it had felt
Yet, I recognised an absence of authenticity in the speaker's voice
A fellow Arab who had perhaps forgotten what their parents fled for
A lack of profundity in the crowds reactive cheer
I mean the fact that they were cheering is what threw me off
The speakers were recounting death, displacement and exile
Yet all that it was met with was the cheer and clapping of a numb crowd
Or silence
I’m not trying to be nihilistic
I felt like the Americans didn’t know how to react to bad news
That kept happening to me
Weren’t they used to it
Anecdotes were told with no anger no revolt no real reaction
The people had come together tired to chant at the wall
Humming ‘War, what is it good for- absolutely nothing’
How many years has it been
Removed of meaning and legacy
I remember my father playing me that song too
And I was suddenly ashamed of the crowd and of my politics
And I was reminded of where I truly was standing
And I walked out
As Americans only feel at peace when they are unbothered
While abiding by the social conducts which comprise their manufactured sensibilities of success
Clouded by a century of false representation, deception and disbelief
Or maybe it’s just the accent
