Sderot
It took me twenty years to love
this hole in the middle of nowhere.
The cotton balls spread a white flame
and there was an ill wind in the cypresses
until for the first time I saw,
with a just eye,
the unsophisticated houses under the roof of clouds,
until I heard
the wonderful murmur of the street.
The last whisper emitted by the waves of asphalt…
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Washing the Streets of Holland
When I was twelve, I read The Diary of Anne Frank.
I identified with her having to live
stories above a busy street
over a business, and having to keep quiet
for hours at a time.
I’d pad about on…
The Poverty Line
As if you could draw a line and say: below this there’s poverty.
Here’s the bread that turned black in the colorations
Of cheap makeup
And the olives in their little plate
Atop the cloth over the…
An Affirmation
I am not I
when called to account—
plaster over, dumbly benched
the corrosive ardency
of blinkered identification.
To affirm nothing, a veil
of asymptotic bent,
prattling over-
tunes in the striated…
Lecture with Celan
How many know
the number of creatures is endless?
So many know,
only a gasp in their questions is possible.
All that fullness—
of wounds that won’t scar over.
pain’s grillework
persisting in…
Lamentation of the Borderguard
I do not want to be a borderguard, said the borderguard.
I don’t want to be a bodyguard.
I don’t want to be a guardian angel.
I don’t want to be a guide.
I want not to be a grinder.
I don’t want to…
Scattered Psalms: I (Handiwork/Glory)
To the Conductor: A song of David.
The heavens declare the glory of God,
the firmament tells His handiwork.
Day on day utters speech,
night on night announces knowledge.
There is no speech and…