Of all possibilities, it's a
Small, green, sour apple I choose
To break my forty hour fast.
Hungrily, I bite through it's
Lightly textured skin, perfect
Pale yellow crisp flesh, and
Do not stop until
Only a stem,
And a few small, brown seeds
Are all that remain in my sticky palm.
All of this, simply to say,
To you, who've so kindly checked in,
That reports of my death by starvation
Are greatly exaggerated, indeed.
The thin chill of late Autumn's evening Haifa air,
Dances in through
Open windows, and
Like shy feathers, touches the
Skin of my bare shins and feet
While the rest of my body
Curls inward to nest
Inside my gigantic, faux fur coat.
I'm laying on the couch
Its back cushions stacked
Upon the floor at one end,
To widen the space of my crippled's bed.
Through the same windows,
The day's light fades
Not gently, it explodes
In oranges, and vivid pinks,
Then surrenders to blues, and finally black
And outside, a cat yowls
And sticky cars' tires complain
As they try to hold onto the street
It's my body, now that opens a memory:
Cold, late afternoons,
Sat by the computer,
Beside the open bedroom window
How empty that apartment
When She wasn't home
Loneliness, like spikes in
The bottoms of bare feet on cold, buckled floorboards-
How I'd push it away
In the warm escape of
Others' lives online
And when sometimes even
That wasn't enough
I'd climb into our bed, my cold feet, not
Daring to reach out for the
Home of her foot's sole
Instead, like my body right now,
Protectively,
Pulled inwards toward self
And rub them together
Beneath the duvet covered
Down winter comforter
My body trying desperately to
Pull in warmth
My face, out,
Open throated gulping air
The cold New York air like
Clean, ice water.
The jets, whose roars split
The Haifa skies
Are so dammed heavy; you
Can't even begin
To imagine. In fact,
They weigh
As much, as the sum
Of every world
They've had to destroy.
This is just the way with war:
Each rocket–
Every missile, grenade..
Even bullet
Carries unimaginable mass
And always,
No matter which side
They leave behind
A million black holes.
Now, don't get it twisted,
This isn't condemnation.
I know too well the importance of war.
But at the same time,
How can I possibly
Ignore the suck
Of all those black holes?
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