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A Gift to Hofshteyn
Abishag. Little, young, warm Abishag.
Shout into the street: King David is not yet dead.
But King David wants to sleep and they won’t let him.
Adoniyahu with his gang shout my crown off my gray head…
We live in a prison. We have been degraded to the level of homeless and uncared-for animals. When we…
When death comes to me, whether in France or abroad, I leave it to my dear wife or, failing her, to my children, to arrange for such burial as may seem best to them. I wish the ceremony to be a civil…
All those things whose names I hushed
in secret, I meet in the night’s abyss.
I face the dark. Alert, remembering. Silently,
again I’ll let you in—my friends, my beloved dead.
And here you are as…
As you die there in agony, brother,
Don’t be calling your comrades in vain.
Let me warm my hands on your body,
Make good use of the blood from your veins.
Stop crying, stop groaning, don’t be a…
Not in vain did I vow to be faithful,
not in vain did I tag at your heels.
With the mole I struggled from darkness,
stubborn and under a spell.
You, grief of the nails on my fingers,
you, woe of my…
On the other side of the poem there is an orchard,
and in the orchard, a house with a roof of straw,
and three pine trees,
three watchmen who never speak, standing guard.
On the other side of the…
The body of a weary man is primed like an ambulance
Adrenaline charges through his hot blood.
I will go mad if we don’t end this now.
Bizarre how a man so blind with bits of coal
Can strike so…
A psalm of David. A song for the dedication of the House.
I extol You, O Lord,
for You have lifted me up,
and not let my enemies rejoice over me.
O Lord, my God,
I cried out to You,
and You…