Plasticine Action
Protester arrested over ‘Plasticine Action’ T-shirt: ‘How ridiculous is this?’
They banned the phrase, so he came with clay.
Morph’s thumbs declared what laws would not permit.
“PLASTICINE ACTION!” was the chant this day,
While Gaza’s people choke on concrete grit.
“You’re nicked!” for shirts, but not for bombing schools.
The law’s blind scales tip the crooked way.
They’ll jail you for a phrase while snipers log their kills;
Spent bullet casings where children once would play.
De-arrested laughs can’t stitch blown limbs whole,
Nor mend the hearts where checkpoints carve their art.
Each plasticine thumb, a middle finger to the role
Of states that ban compassion but profit smart.
“Nothing remains,” the general’s boast takes flight:
No homes, no schools, just tents in starving rows.
It is our taxes that fuel this genocide by night,
As ninety percent of Gaza’s skin now shows.
The West Bank too, each bulldozed olive tree
Maps the apartheid beyond the world can see.
A spirit injecting into World War II’s veins,
Where death and destruction stir familiar stains.
Clay Morph’s thumbs crushed by tanks in Gaza’s sand.
While Amalek’s curse burns across the wasteland.
Are there “two sides” when one side is nuclear?
Sever this ecstasy of terror and unspoken fear.
Amen.
