Your middle name is Khalil because that’s what your poet grandfather changed his name to when he converted to Islam and started a family in Ohio valley woods.
Raised chickens and two girls
by a donkey field with rolling hills.
I told classmates my middle name (Amina) was Hawaiian because on no planet, except for your grandfathers, did Perry County and Islam co-exist.
But Hawaii? Patably exotic
with its hula dancers and sea turtles.
Your poet grandfather yelled and cursed when he was hurt when he was young but it’s not like that anymore. Today while you played outside with Yai he cried three times while talking about Palestine and for a heated flash I understood.
How entire generations can hurl lives to retribution
for the tears of their fathers.