a dinner fork covered by debris -
Our bulldozers will clean this up for me.
Please stop the children crying in the street -
and sweep the fragments of their stupid games -
so we can run our bulldozers for dreams.
God sent us here to take your homes -
and who are you, old Arab woman?
How dare you challenge our sacred bulldozers?
Take these defiling rags! Your filthy clothes!
Don't you ever wash your children's faces?
Start the bulldozers! Clear them for our dreams!
The Superpower behind us! Who are you?
The swine who would defile our earth!
Run them down with bulldozers for God!
We tear your trees out of the ground -
We trample you for our prosperity -
Our bulldozers - not tanks - build homes for enmity.
© 2009 OMYMA