Big Date
Lenore Weiss
09/25/2014
A giant’s missus walks in the fields, steals hay bales to use for curlers, wraps her wiry locks around each one stuck with a branch for a bobby pin, blows
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A giant’s missus walks in the fields, steals hay bales to use for curlers, wraps her wiry locks around each one stuck with a branch for a bobby pin, blows
When I turn on the morning news or listen to the radio in my car, I pray not to hear the black blot of another beheading or rape, hundreds executed
no daily warbles bringing each other up-to-date, take-offs and landings, welcome homes and toes curled around each other in bed, retreat inside my nest, gather up frayed feathers like a
A shell seeker who bends down from the waist,
nipples bid the wind good day
Let us sing of heroes, inducted into a land of zombies,
vampires, crooked cops, drug dealers, military forces of occupation,
each room set up to teach another cruelty of the human heart
what a Chabad past telephone poles to the top of the World Trade Tower brought me back down to earth thinking it wasn’t me who blew out the candles