Poetry

Some Things I Saw

Summer in Jerusalem, 2022

a night darker than a pupil
deeper than a drop of ink
that lapses into a page
craves a life

in this July
the dire jasmine
sips the stone
and dissolves into the crescent

peace o aloes
your limbs entwine like lovers
who touch blessedly

please o night
take me to your cave
and drown me in your pitch

Fragments of an Uncle

Hey nieces and nephews,
you’re building rockets out of blocks,
and towers out of magna-tiles,
(with safe rooms for the turtles and chickens),
and pretending to be soldiers.

Siren.
Shelter.
Let’s tuck you in—

          bullets, get down
don’t shudder like the ground now
better to be…

Dad’s bringing the neighbors back, and
Mom’s keeping you safe inside, and

you’re waiting so patiently
with tigers and bears and stickers of planets.

Siren.
Shelter.
Let’s tuck you in—

                  it’s all bombed out again
can’t put you to rest right now
but maybe tomorrow…

            Siren. Shelter.
            Let’s tuck you in—

Beautiful, beloved nieces and nephews,
I hope we’ve sheltered you enough,
but I know you shelter us.
Ah, you another story? Sure.

                a bough breaks again
it’s hard to imagine, i know, but
to me, it seems to be another limb…

 A Kaddish

Yitgaddal ve-yitkaddash,
What have we done?
Amen
In the worlds we ended, as we willed,
we overthrew Your dominion—
we ended their lives,
and ended our lives,
all the lives in the House of Israel—
and the puddle of blood
continues to seethe,
and the ash on the altar
continues to burn.
Now, let us say,
Amen.