Devon Balwit
Which Is It, Then?
It was, in the midst of the most psychologically damaging experience of my life, wildly cathartic.
—Don Paterson
Come visit the West Bank, and you can stay
at Banksy’s Walled-Off Hotel. Rooms run
from a $30 a night to the $965 Presidential
Suite. An extra $20 gets you spray paint
and ladder so you, too, can scrawl a message
on the wall. All profits return to the community,
promo reassures. Wave to the security cams,
snap selfies with the locals. Expect some
to yell, judging you more voyeur than visionary.
Is it Oppression Tourism or art, consciousness-
raising or exploitation? But Palestinians
themselves, you insist, take tour busses there.
Careful, like who can use the N-word, you’re
not one of them. Decadent, says a visitor.
A joke? asks another. Everyone’s
uncomfortable. 700 people pass through
each day, all rooms booked months out.
A plastic chimp greets you at the door.
Devon Balwit is a writer/teacher from Portland, OR. Her poems of protest have appeared here before as well as in The New Verse News, Poets Reading the News, Redbird Weekly Reads, Rise-Up Review, Rat’s Ass Review, The Rising Phoenix Review, Mobius, and more.
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