He Called The Dog Habibi
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He called the dog “habibi”
— my darling —
as it mauled him to death
while his family listened nearby.
They had never heard him speak before.
He had the mind of an infant.
“Enough, my darling,” Muhammed said to the dog,
because it was killing him,
and because he was in pain,
and because his family had spoken to him
so lovingly all his life.
Those were the words he knew.
That’s how he was spoken to.
That’s what you say to someone
when you need them to stop.
When you need them to listen.
When their behavior is challenging,
but you have deep love in your heart.
Enough, my darling.
Enough, my darling.
As Gaza burns: enough, my darling.
Enough.
As attack dogs on two legs
send attack dogs on four legs
to bite and maul and kill:
Enough, my darling.
Enough.
A murder of crows
follows a murder of IDF soldiers,
cawing, “Enough, my darling.
Enough.”
The bombed out hospitals.
The children without limbs.
The sniper drones playing recorded babies’ cries
to try and lure out civilians.
The attack dog maulings.
The hunger.
The fear.
Enough, my darling.
Enough.
As we kill our planet
and kill each other
because we cannot act kindly,
cannot let love guide us,
cannot call off the dogs,
cannot rescue their victims,
cannot stop the attack,
cannot awaken from our confusion,
the stars call down to us from above:
Enough, habibi.
Enough, my darling.
Enough.
Enough.
Enough.
Listen to a reading by Tim Foley:
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