I've kinda been going for gore in my poetry lately

*trigger warning for blood*

Welcome to Ramat Aviv

April 27^th, 2007

Twelve stories below my new apartment

Jet lag blurring and smothering my eyelids

A woman with her head covered

Is bent in front of the grocery store.

Her head turned away from the unintelligible script.

She is a piece of difference

A curiosity for eight year old eyes

Out of place in this

Suburban confusion.

I avert my gaze

Ashamed to be staring

And find my eyes locked

On a cat, its guts spilled

Across the driveway.

I wonder if I have moved to

A land of secrets,

Hidden stares,

And spilled but unnoticed blood.