Category: Writing
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like Walter Benjamin
For Freddie Like a luteTouched by a breath of airAnd it sings on its ownWrote Walter Benjamin. Like a breath of airTouched by a luteAnd it sings on its ownI write. Like peopleBereft of airStrangled by stringsWho touch themselves. Like thoseWho are no more.And they touch us.And we sing. Like Walter Benjamin. Translated from Hebrew…
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regret at 3am
a basin and runningwater aren’t enough thisshame requires a vaccinean exorcism ofthe spirit who’s spirit?mine? steam billows expands fillsme engulfing me choking mebristles scratching like a gamblerpleading desperatelypining the winning hand echoes play on repeata mind rolls in trancea body in motionvictims of the weatherwe float like a ship atsea how do you…
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finding the river
Yesterday I was outside myself watching at water’s edge,wanting to know dark knotted wood, snarled heartof split oak, a pliable tangle of maple and birch bleachedon the bank—set free by nature’s rage. My eyes grippedthe storm. Something mystical happens in a turbulent river—rush of sediment over rocks, driftwood pieces rippedfrom resting places collide, tumble end…
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spring is my love
Todaya ballad of light!A soft breeze brushes and blowsmemories erased of a dark winter. I have been homesick forspring andtrees.Homesick for song and lush leaves;cavernous and yearning to be filled entirely. A jubilee of flowers, stalks reaching to downy clouds and satisfied stretchBuds grasping through cool soilreaching for light and familiar hold. How long…
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The Worst Gut Instinct Ever
There was a timein the not so distant past,where I didn’t much bother withwhether or notthe bubble was centered.I figured if it looked level,it must be level.I had convinced myselfthat I could cleave myselffrom the sins of the world by sight,or by sound, or by avoidance.I had convinced myself that I wasthe only arbiter and…
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a plea
I plead my immense fatigue to subdueMe like the dragon beseeching Saint GeorgeTo grow from his fertilized, defeated body a kingdom on the banksOf the Lethe River and graceful oblivion models will trot beside itAdorning a wreath of witless smiles. Translated from Hebrew by Natalie Feinstein
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beyond is this that
Is this that? Who is wrong? This guy or his family? Is this that? The paradigm is all wrong. This isn’t that. This is valuable and about to be made right. This is for more. For new starts and fresh hope. For a new way of being, of thinking, of seeing. This is beyond. Beyond…
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Alchemist’s Coffee
“That’s $10.50. Would you like to sign up for an Alchemist’s reward card today?” Miles asked as he stared vacantly at the woman across the counter. She shook her head no. They always said no. He swiped her platinum card and moved to the espresso machine and listened to the grind of the coffee beans…
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Trapped In Line
She had no voice of her own to lick the woundsof her offspring—sprung off and over the cliff.One by one, like lemmings, they follow in line behind a leader who found their place behindsomeone else who learned as much as anyonehow to play a game from those who came before. And someone else before that,…
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Poet’s Prayer
Father, Son, Holy Spirit Not kneeling in a church pewreciting catechism rote, a lastminute plea, genie lamp wishupon a star desire nor beggingfor winning lottery numbers,just here this day to say thankyou for continuing to bless mein spite of my transgressions. I confess I attended service buttwice this past year, probablylike most Catholics, Easter andChristmas,…
