…in three movements:
like a slug of gin
bite of juniper
aftertaste of immovability
_______________________________
we’ve been over this
You and me
or rather, me
I heard your invitation
to argue
to reason together
and so I did
anger, disillusionment
questions, pain
and you just listened
impassive
I saw your invitation
to wrestle
to be Israel
and so I did
long, grim matches
sweating, straining
great groaning effort
still
I felt your heart of love
from the corners of the earth
to the ends of time
compassion writ large
yet quiet
subdued
now, like you,
I’m flat, unmoved
the great grand effort of grief
expended
and nothing to show
except my own mute acceptance
staring at bins of tiny clothes
which I know,
but cannot remember
overwhelming insult
absorbed into my flesh
leaving simple sadness
______________________________
they call me a technomad
floating over the surface
making my way where I will
tent easily pitched,
then moved
yet with one stake
that does not budge
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