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You must remove the bracelets from your wrist,
rings from your fingers,
the furious tongue from your mouth,
and place them on the
table for inspection.

Erase impatience from your gaze,
the visions behind your eyes.
Silence the omens in your throat
before facing the camera.

Do not step forward until directed.

If you find this demeaning
go outside and
traverse the wall by other means.

Become the rich, bitter
tea of field fire smoke
drifting over the rampart
on the breath of the western wind.

Grow a pair of grasshopper legs
and leap its height in a high-
jumper’s arc.

Glide above its twisted wire on the
hawk’s amber wings.

Make the passage
underground— as a black
silken mole,
or in a caravan of ants.

If all else fails
find a ram’s horn
like Joshua used.
Blow into it until the wall
comes crashing down.

When you reach the other side,
O prophet,
they will be waiting
with shackles and
burning air to make you weep.

(Previously published in Isaiah at the Wall, Palestine Poems)