"Here is my morning poem, which turned out to be for the horrible Newt, who insults the
lizard newts, which are obviously of a higher intelligence."

Dear Newt

It is possible you are not invented yet,
you are just a phantom,
and tonight when you go home
someone else will be living in your house
because they couldn’t see you. Maybe they
will already have taken over your Tiffany’s
account and bank account and put it
in their own name. Would that hurt?
Not much, because you’re not real. You don’t have
a memory, a history, a simple human honor –
I am here, I was born in this place, these are my people
and my trees, my horizon and my water, my hope,
my children, the sound of my birds, my future.
Since you don’t have a future,
why would anyone vote for you?
Signed, The Palestinians.

By Naomi Shihab Nye

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