Things You May Find Hidden in My Ear, by Mosab Abu Toha, feels like it was written yesterday, and the continued relevancy of this collection is what makes it so gut-wrenching to read. A Palestinian poet born in and currently living in Gaza, Toha recounts first-hand experiences living through Israeli attacks. Some occur during prolonged conflicts - like those in 2014 or 2021 - and other incidents are described as the routine occurrences of violence in occupied Gaza. The incessant sound of drones, the constant threat of aerial attack, the accessibility of the beach to Israeli naval patrols - all are woven together in a net of surveillance that shadows day-to-day life. Toha's voice is reflective and unfiltered as it drifts between memories of family and images of leveled homes, reflections on ancestry and odes to death. As we bear witness to the horrors of occupation and ethnic cleansing in 2023, I am haunted by Toha's plea in US and THEM: "I want to build my house on a swing. / I don't want to walk on this earth"