Issue #4
Two Poems
I.
i have spent my life striving
to become a man
wading in Your words
pulling the chariot of Your deeds
but the worms did not come from my skin
and the mountain and desert
were not really dry land
but the sites of a familiar
cynical (cyclical) drowning
the boneyard is all that is left of me now
but in the place of abandoned human beings,
there is a new parchment unfurling
the length of our bodies
the width of unkept imaginations
this is the Torah of bereaved shedding
an un-Assembly
the beauty of all our unspun burdens
II.
the sages
played cards
but unbeknownst to the masters
their path was a pot
(the eye, a friend, a neighbour, the heart)
and as they gambled, women spent nearly six thousand years
climbing out the inside of pockets
finding what precedes dust and ash has always been Jewish women’s work