Things You May Find Hidden in My Ear: Poems from Gaza

In this debut collection, Mosab Abu Toha documents the daily mechanics of living under siege in the Gaza Strip. The poems catalog specific architectural and sensory details of occupation: the persistent hum of drones overhead, the smell of cordite after an airstrike, and the rubble of a family home. Abu Toha writes about the obstacles of raising children in a conflict zone, the effort required to build a community library, and the physical memory of land lost. Rather than abstract political theory, the text provides a literal account of checkpoints, shrapnel, and the botanical life that persists in a scarred landscape.

This book serves readers interested in Palestinian literature and the intersection of poetry and eyewitness testimony. Those looking for a firsthand perspective on the human consequences of geopolitical blockades will find a granular record of survival. The reader gains a precise vocabulary for the reality of displaced civilians, moving beyond news headlines to understand how a specific geography dictates the rhythms of birth, education, and mourning. It offers a blunt, unadorned look at how individuals maintain a sense of self when their physical environment is under constant threat of erasure.