In this searing collection, El-Kurd doesn't shy away from exposing the extreme violence he's witnessed in Sheikh Jarrah, an infamous neighborhood in Jerusalem facing increasing settler violence.

El-Kurd dedicates this collection to his grandma, Rifqa, who embodies steadfast resilience even in the face of displacement and threats of imprisonment. In the author's notes, he writes, "I learned that poetry is planting a bomb in a garden—a masquerade. Language is not free." Every poem hits hard, but my absolute favorites are 1948/1998 and Martyrs.

I also loved Aja Monet's foreword, in which she wrote, "May we see ourselves in these poems and steward their truths. The freest people on earth are not controlled by hatred or fear but moved by love and truth. We are more than what was done to us; we are who we've become in spite of it all." I've never cried so fast reading forewords.