Friday, August 30, 2013


I remember Musa
prefers not to play
for mixed dancing

but we are behind the curtain
and already started and
we aren't really what he's
talking about

right? In any case this
is not a regular makom
dancing so we don't need

a mechitza and if you want
I will rule that it is fine
as long as we make sure

that four amot remain between
us 66% of the time and in any case
people are watching
and I want to

After Rev. Dr. Stephanie Paulsell's
"Devotion in the Study of Religion"

"Devotion in the Study of Religion:
Address for the Convocation of Harvard Divinity School
at the Opening of the 198th Year"

My face is made of angles
and your teeth gleam in your face
and my skin shines like moonbeams
and your lashes are of nightsbreath
and my hair curls around your fingers
and your hair curls around your hat
and your hand closes upon my shoulder
and my eyes close upon your shoulder
and your smile is behind my eyelids
and I drool in my sleep I and do not know
what you do in yours

Wednesday, August 28, 2013


fish food one flake
each morning
under stove top dairy
bottom meat washing:
1 = hottest dryer-
better to line dry
"the world is not really
like it appears"
June 25, 2010
1 more cucumber?
1 red bell pepper
"friction creates energy"
birth || prayer
give into it
"an active vessel"
Isaac coming down
from the altar
intersection - tzomet

Tuesday, August 27, 2013


in the night
is the door that
is the corner
of my bed that
is a suitcase
That is your back
under fumbled
clothing these
are my arms!
Crazy dreams
of fumbling dark
corners suitcase
beds clothes
that scatter
in the night

Sunday, August 25, 2013


Deconstructed poem

To write a deconstructed poem
first I should probably deconstruct myself
My belief in God should be separated
into its constituent components and next
I'll take this love and put the neediness
over here the truth over there and the joy
well actually the joy goes with the truth

Love is so deep loooove lurve I lurrve you
I lurve this world its soft skin its velvety


What is my head
doing over there?
And someone has decided
to arrange my finger bones
in size order on that table
My insides feel all
I don't even know their functions anymore
And what are you doing here?
I haven't seen you outside of my heart
in years


Wait! Wa-
wait! I'm not
finished with
you come back
here your arms
are out of reach


"They've either gone to bed
or they've disappeared"


are these hands
on my arms
I don't
remember them

De construct

Can we unbuild it?
Yes We Can!

De Construct

I miss you
you light forest
grey city
gay neighborhood


is my arm
the fingerrrs
this email
from you
my arms
wanting more
wanting north
norwhals (?)

Tilted ground

I lie on the tilted ground in my melancholy
God walks up and sits down beside me
arms wrapped around knees
Nu, this day,
not to your liking?
I don't know how to reply
and God is silent, gazing over the water.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

1st of Elul / Rosh Chodesh Elul II


I know a place is good
for singing when I find
that I am singing in it

and by good for singing
I mean empty so my voice
can ricochet back to me

maybe I should avoid stairwells
the way others avoid mirrors
you know, as a spiritual practice

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

30th of Av/Rosh Chodesh Elul I

The month's begun and I don't hesitate
to start it right. I say the evening prayers,
though starting at this moment is too late,

since I, though having time, procrastinated
til today to straighten my affairs.
The month's begun so I don't hesitate

to put in Google Calendar "create
a place for You." My frightened heart declares
that starting at this moment is too late.

Although I cannot hope to vindicate
myself—for I was certainly aware—
the month's begun. So I don't hesitate

to reassess the way I live but hate
that Elul was the push for me to care,
that starting at this moment is too late.

My credibility is gone. My wait
proves piety a fabric that can tear.
The month's begun, and I won't hesitate,
though starting at this moment is too late.

Thursday, August 1, 2013


Faucet's turned on but wait
I've gotta take out my bobby pins

Finger and thumb tug on the first
as I watch my reflection in the mirror

A bunch of missed classes and a tambourine
fall to the floor followed by some anger

Next fall the witch-shadows from my bedroom
and a shower of tiny dried purple flowers

After the fourth I start using my foot
to nudge everything off the braided rag rug

Around the eighth I start wondering
how many are left and turn off the water

You're in there, of course, clinging to
the tenth and I have half-expected this

although I am surprised by how light
everything is with you gone fallen

forgotten away like angel wings