Starched white suit, he wears
an olive oil can crown on his head,
carries challah as a scepter,
a scepter
mixes seeds blown from a thistle
rubbed on the honey sac of a bee
that leans toward Jerusalem,
Jerusalem
where pebbles rotate in a circle,
strained rusted keys buried
in a mound,
a mound of salt
near a West Bank settlement,
a pail with yogurt from milk
of a black goat,
a goat’s
milk measured in a silver thimble
mixed in a cup with a broken rim
painted with a yellow asphodel,
asphodel
of memory dipped in straw
beneath a twist of barbed wire
recorded in the crease of an eye,
watching
inside the vessel of shimmering heat,
an Angel of Death rises from the desert
where the slaughter goes on and on
and on.
Reference:
Chad Gadya