Property 26-2-24
After West Bank settlement marketing event… in New Jersey.
Some old masters may have operated in good faith:
unclear how they made their riches. Financial
reports, always came back black, boxes
of darker bodies conjuring profit. All that mattered
was master’s name on their deeds. Always thankful
for God’s favour, today we go to market on a bema –
elevated to deconsecrated auction
block. Interest rate rises in the West Bank
far outstrip the real cost. Large settlements
emerge from reclaimed impunity, no messiah to over-
turn the tables. Beneath masters feet
there creeps a thin fault line between feeling
owned, and completely powerless. In this
rubble-stamped world, we choose to care
less, as does the earth, apparently unwilling
to open up. Perhaps the decision is made – through us;
are we not all flesh and blood, born of earth?
Is it not the earth to where all our dust will again settle?
Yet, everywhere I survey, you proudly convey a mother-
less child, a long way from home.
I worry you could persuade me to believe:
your heart is still, and made of metal.
Curtis Brown is a poet, and multi-disciplinary artist based in London, UK. His poetry has been published in several journals, and anthologies; and his poetry films shown in several international film festivals. Curtis can often be found growing in green spaces.