Poetry

New poem and photo by our good friend Marc.

I sit in the dark / with the lights on. / It eats at me / but does not get satiated. / Exactly what, is a mystery to me
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An O-D-E to the O-T-D.

An old friend sent me an email last week: Can you give me / an O-T-D / who as far as I can see / isn’t / depressed? Can you give me / an O-T-D / who has found / Success?
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Itchie has a dolly.
He calls her Dolly.
Itchie loves his Dolly.
He plays with her all the time. He also has a friend.
His friend is the little Jew with the backpack.
…

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I.

his hands were speckled in cheerful red polka dots
and Cain thought (just as he reached the end
of his psychonautical journey)
that he’d become a clown, a happy change
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I come

to my daughter’s place

invitation in my purse

among my to-do lists, my half-read book,

my nibbled-on snack, my nearly-gone drink.

A Jewish tradition

A superstition

inviting the dead to their loved ones’ weddings.

My daughter…

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in zebra patterned bodysuits

the dancers slither apart

shimmy in circles,

in odd jumpy steps

across the yawning space

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Where is the film
of the woman banging pans in rage
because her husband is late and the kids are fighting
or the man smiling because he caught the train
just in time
or…

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Dark, dark, oh so dark
Yet also comforting; the warm blackness
You can turn on the lights.
You might even succeed in bringing in some warmth,
Possibly even a…

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For want of a nail the baby was lost,

For want of the baby the tzaddik was lost,

For want of the tzaddik the generation was lost,

For want of the generation the Messiah was lost,

For want of…

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