HAVOC

by William Aarnes

A Palestinian child stands among the rubble of buildings destroyed in Israeli attacks in Nuseirat refugee camp, Gaza. [Photo: Ashraf Amra/Anadolu] —AlJazeera, December 4, 2023

                        rubble, rubble

                                    rubble, rubble, rubble

 

children exist, children exist,

cheery children exist,

chasing each other

at a wedding chosen 

as the target for the missile

that’s seconds away

 

                        rubble, rubble

                                    rubble, rubble, rubble

 

children exist, infants

napping in the daycare

in the building the terrorist

chooses to bomb

 

                        rubble, rubble

                                    rubble, rubble, rubble

 

                                          children

exist, orphaned and maimed

but maybe recovering

in a children’s ward when men

with grandchildren choose

not to worry if the hospital

might be shelled

 

                        rubble, rubble

                                    rubble, rubble, rubble

William Aarnes lives in New York. The refrain of "Havoc" might be a spell uttered by the gods  of havoc, though you might also hear an echo of "Nothing" by The Fugs.

"FLUFFY DOESN'T LIVE HERE ANYMORE,"

by Gil Fagiani

Richmond Center for Rehabilitation, Staten Island

 

my son says, as his new roommate: black teeth,

angry eyes, mumbles to himself, as he storms

out the door when I ask him to lower the TV.

 

Chubby, gentle, slow-talking Fluffy went every-

where with his pink teddy bear: the bedroom,

the dining room, the dentist’s office, he even

took showers with him—“that’s how he got

the nickname Fluffy,” my son reminds me.

 

He loved to sing Sammy Davis Jr. songs with Jill:

“Everything Is Beautiful, ” “The Candy Man.”

Last week he reportedly touched her backside,

“inappropriate contact,” the head nurse declared.

 

“He was sent to another unit,” my son says.

“Everyone on the ward misses Fluffy, even Jill.”

Gil Fagiani (1945-2018) was a translator, essayist, short-story writer, and poet. He  published nine books of poetry: Connecticut Trilogy: Stone Walls, Chianti in Connecticut, Missing Madonnas; as well as his collections Logos, A Blanquito in El Barrio, and Rooks; plus three chapbooks, Crossing 116th Street, Grandpa’s Wine, and Serfs of Psychiatry.