Week 2

April 17, 2015

Day 8

Tell me the options again,
in order.
And how many ways
are there to document a life
and the point of art?
As the sun sets,
let us decide.

Day 9

Build line
of house.
Let’s say it.
Corner lift
at roadsign.


Day 10

cracking sparkles of morning
tempo chirping drift
inside each hand is another.
each car drives in its lane
and another.

Day 11

There is effort in waiting
There is effort in waiting
Just as
There is effort in birth.

Day 12

Fresh neighbourhood scent
breaks a bit too loose.
Houses fly by like dreams
And a fantasy
of life with you–
a park muddy and wild with spring rain.


Day 13

The corner drives
at the speed of effortly
ordered life.
The sun
waits, breaks, cracks.

Week 1

April 9, 2015

Day 1

After we are done
Grandmommy remembers:
I’m ready
I’m ready
I’m ready

Day 2

The thing I remember most is sleep.
Many things happened today
and a broken heart.
The things
I count,
I name.


Day 3

If I could either
clean my room
or go to therapy
I would clean my room.
Or go to therapy.
I could do either.

Day 4

Emails misting
through my fingers.

Matching moments escape,
More awake
more asleep.


Day 5

Am I this moment’s watchman?
A distraction crouches by the door.

I scroll through pages,
hold on to
an impression
of sudden change.

I have an uncle
who forgets everything.
From his hospital bed
he squawks at me.
Where is my brother?
He’s dead.

Day 42

May 8, 2013

Day 1

March 28, 2013

A spiritual seeker once came to a female lama and asked, “How do I attain enlightenment?” She told him, “Sit in a cave for one day and don’t let your mind think a single thought”

The man went into the cave and after the day ended he exited and confessed “I have failed. Many times my mind was filled with thought.” 

The woman told him he had tried valiantly. “Try again,” she told him. “Return to the cave and this time make sure your mind is filled with thought the whole day, let not a moment of emptiness occur.” 

The man went into the cave again and after the day ended he exited and confessed, “I have failed. Try as I might to fill my mind with thought, there were many moments of emptiness that I could not prevent.” 

The woman replied, “You have again tried valiantly and indeed have learned your first lesson– The mind is a beast not easily conquered, yet its nature is never constant”  

Day 49 (7 Weeks)

May 26, 2012

It was revealed to me in a dream that my fate had been sealed for exile. I fasted all day and then realized– I’m ready. I didn’t tell a soul.  I’m superfluous here and besides, I can’t do my work properly, so I decided that I’ll go back to the place where I was born. I passed my wife in the kitchen. She looked one way and I looked the other. How can it be that I still dream of another? Am I not grateful for being brought here? She stays at home when I go out and wander the streets. Tonight there is learning in every corner of the city. I try to say something kind but falter.

Families are finishing their meals. I hear the song of ascents that David sang to bring up the water from the lower realms. “When we returned to Zion we were like dreamers.” A friend on the corner tells me about Hassidim who would kidnap Yeminite Jews and bring them to New York so they would not be ruined by the churnings of this land. They would tell the children’s parents that they had been saved. I wonder if I have been saved or ruined by these years here. The daughters of Jerusalem are out in the streets wearing white. I follow one until I see another. And follow her until I see someone new.

I think I see she for whom my heart yearns but it is a nun on her way to a monastery near David’s Tomb. She is going to mass for Pentecost, to commemorate the Divine Spirit resting on the seventy elders who left their houses and began speaking words of redemption. And even though they were all men of Jerusalem their language was miraculously understood by all.

I saw that it was midnight and I looked up to the sky, to catch the moment when the heavens open so I could pour out all the desires of my heart. And suddenly there was a sound from above, at first like a tearing and then like a rushing wind or an engine roaring and it filled the place where I was standing. A soldier came up to me and asked what I was doing. I looked at his gun and began to speak. He was astonished and I realized he couldn’t understand me. I didn’t have a good answer in any case. He asked to see my ID. I had planned to be jailed, but not like this. I would sit confined at my own choosing. There was nothing he could do because I am doomed to leave this place. He concluded I wasn’t in the way and I continued on a little while longer.

I passed through the empty market and returned home. My bags are packed and I looked at the painting on the wall of Mount Sinai. The two tablets reminded me of my mother and father waiting for my return, or perhaps of my two brothers, each more upright than the next.  Everything is frozen. I have been given one face and have made myself another. A siren rings out and I know my prayers have not been answered. I tell my wife I am leaving but she has already taken all of her things and I realize I have spent this whole year alone, with only the groove in the bed beside me.

People always ask me what I’m doing. I can’t come up with a good answer. I have been trying to say these things with the hope that some of them will reach your heart. And if you remember them when you sit at home, tell them to your sons or daughters. And I hope that you’ll think about them when you inevitably go on your way as I am about to do, when you fall down or when you rise up again.

From the plane all the angles are different. I’m going up and going down. My breath rises and falls. You too will inevitably go your way, just like I’ve gone mine. Hidden in the engine’s roar I notice my mouth filled with laughter.

Day 48

May 25, 2012


Waltzing across
the stage
with a bottle,
I am detained by a yellowing hag.
I tear a sheet out of her notebook,
prick a pen from her pocket
and the audience laughs.
This smile I’ve painted on my face
is wider than this ache in my feet.
This bed frame creaks,
I throw off the sheets.
The house boos
then hisses like a moth
in a death dance with the flame.
Again I turn to the blinding lights.
The curtain gives no shelter,
my makeup peels away in a storm of applause.

Day 47

May 24, 2012


moved from above


scent glistening evening 


black raven clawing on my tongue


grandfather would always say 


take that painting down

Day 46

May 23, 2012


Day 45

May 22, 2012


I was busy losing myself
in moving back and forth
when he came over to me
and told me about a sheik wearing a shtrimel
and a rabbi wearing a keffiyeh
and how if were all crazy enough
and if we all bow down together
in this cramped country
there will be room enough.
And the temple will be a temple of time
and it will still descend from on high
and we will settle
but under the banner of our brother
and the room full of hassidim
like we all swayed in the shuk
and all over Israel
and throughout Palestine
husbands were kissing their wives
and the right hand was caressing the left hand.
I forgot everything I knew
and there was peace in the land.

Day 44

May 21, 2012


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