When the slaughter stops in Gaza

I will get to those cobwebs, promise,

and water that monstera,

and clean out that goo in the fridge.

When the slaughter stops in Gaza

I will youtube how to grow strawberries,

and whether dinosaurs ever had feathers,

and what's the deal with hibachis -

is it something to do with fondue?

When the slaughter stops in Gaza

I will brush my hair out finally,

and call my Mum god bless her

and make her a perfect lasagna -

no, two; I'll make one for freezing,

and I'll give Dad back his drill.

When the slaughter stops in Gaza

I will teach myself to play 'Nightswimming',

and do a drawing of that face

that I took a pic of with my camera

in that packed tram in peak-hour

Back Before All This Happened,

and I'll make some kind of cake.

When the slaughter stops in Gaza

I will sit with my love in our camp chairs,

our fingers entwined with our heart strings,

kicking coals awake til magpies

chortle "oh boy are you guys still up?"

and then I'll let him give me an orgasm -

the kind that rips through veils.

When the slaughter stops in Gaza

I'll have my friend for dinner,

and we can watch her vampire show

and talk about her Dad

who died seven millennia and three lives ago

in September of 2023.

And we will lay upon the couch

our teeth stained black with wine,

and we will giggle about dumb things,

and one of us will fart

and the other will fall off the couch,

and it will be good and kind and sweet,

and not once will we see dead babies

or kids ripped from their mums,

or servicemen lit on fire

screaming "Free Palestine, FREE PALESTINE!"

and have our hearts thump in our mouths,

teeth clacking like a piano,

nails digging into flesh,

because everything is awful

and nothing makes sense,

and those men are so horrible,

and why won't they stop them

and why won't they stop them

and why won't they stop

why won't they stop.

But until then, I will roll out of bed,

do a chore and eat a thing,

brush my teeth and drink some water

thump my chest and howl in sorrow

hug my babies, sniff their hair,

and get back in the fight.