Prolit

a literary magazine about money, work, & class

The King Pays the Moss to Eat the Castle

and it                          hears                          obeys                         good subject

clogs                           stone arteries          accumulated            benevolent

glass                           murdergilt                 silverware                my uncle

breathing                  receiving pay            for polish                  walled in

side                             to stay still                nothing                     to do

ways                           we amend                   for saving                 what we could

towards                     nothing                       save guilt                  oh useless

life                              at last                          bloodblue                 and sated

The King Pays the Moslem Never to Return

And he obeys

Loosed upon land

To wander the hills

To spit on a grave

Face a dead give

Pillow too bit

Some two bit snake

Oil salesman so thin

Rattle like a can

My tooth in his jar

Map of two feet

Royals want smoke

For the bees to sleep

And the walls to keep

And a cross to bear

And a beardless night

And this is how a capital

Begins and this is how

It ends:

The wandering

God of good smoke

Boy of no house

Jaw of good God

Guillotine hands

The Wise American Poet Brings Peace to the Middle East

What is the value of poetry in a world so full of violence?

The question has been asked of the Wise American Poet, whose wisdom has made itself known through several volumes of verse, beloved by the many who read and reviewed them, and who is here being lauded for their most recent work which tackles the “Israel- Palestine Meaning-Failure,” a term the Wise American Poet coined, as they find the term “conflict” too war-like and aggressive, and feel that it distracts from what is at the core of the issue, namely humanity. Next to the Wise American Poet on the stage, in identical chairs, are an Israeli Academic and a Palestinian Academic, there to praise the Wise American Poet and marvel at the accuracy of their line breaks.

The Israeli Academic says, What is beautiful about this book is its objectivity. The Palestinian Academic says nothing. The Wise American Poet nods.

The Israeli Academic says, Wise Poet, you are able to find such beauty in such complicated, solutionless difficulties. The Palestinian Academic says nothing. Your words are peacebringers, says the Israeli Academic, they cut through the noise and bring true understanding. They are conversationcreators. The Audience murmurs in appreciation, for they have indeed conversed with interest before the talk and will continue to do so afterwards. The Palestinian Academic speaks, at last. Back to the question at hand.

The Audience frowns.

The Palestinian Academic adds, if you please, O Wise One. The Audience relaxes. The Wise American Poet nods, slowly. The Audience holds their breath. Finally, after a silence long and deep, the Wise American Poet smiles, and puts out their hands in beatification. The sun, they announce. The sun shines on the Israeli as it does on the Palestinian, does it not?

At this, the Audience erupts into applause thunderous and relieved. The Wise American Poet bows and sheds a tear, upon which the Israeli Academic, not to be outdone, weeps openly and profusely. The Palestinian Academic says nothing, and as the Audience shuffles out, pockets a modest check and leaves out the back door to avoid being spat on.

*

Tonight, the Israeli Academic sleeps soundly in their bed, gently rotting, and dreams the dream of emptiness.

The Palestinian Academic, in the tiny airport room far from sight, three hours into the interrogation, rubs their eyes and wipes a little blood from the corner of their mouth. Eventually they sleep, crammed into the hidden corner. They do not dream of poetry, but of tar.

The Wise American Poet, drinking whiskey, filing their taxes, clicks on “uncommon income” and begins to enter their royalties, smiling, dreaming the dream of Wise

               American

                                        poetry.

Fargo Tbakhi

Fargo Tbakhi (he/him) is a queer Palestinian-American performance artist. He is the winner of the 2018 Ghassan Kanafani Resistance Arts Prize, a Pushcart nominee, and a 2020 Desert Nights, Rising Stars Fellow. His writing is published or forthcoming in Strange Horizons, Foglifter, Hobart, The Shallow Ends, Mizna, Peach Mag and elsewhere. His performance work has been programmed at OUTsider Fest, INTER-SECTION Solo Fest, and has received support from the Arizona Commission on the Arts. He is currently a Halcyon Arts Lab Fellow and works at Mosaic Theater.