33 toward the Omer

hod shebhod

I’ve written a poem, I say, but I don’t like it. Words are symbols, right? God says. Yeah, I say. Then poems are placeholders, God says. Just replace this placeholder with another tomorrow.

It doesn’t quite work like that, I say. Of course it doesn’t, God says. Some placeholders are irreplaceholderable. You’re irreplaceholderable, I say. Why thanks, God says. You’re irreplaceholderable too. Now go to bed.