To Israel

As Doncieux did it, hum-green cloth

trapped on that lingering shoe. Your back is turned and all my instincts say

back away. But then you are young and thrusting forward

and you are velvet soft and bend easily.

And with barbed wire and AUTHENTIC SOUVENIRS within your

incredible gravity you are beautiful.

Being with you is like that time in winter when I laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe and then he said goodbye and I went back to where I came from on 101 Dunster Street and stayed inside the rest of the week.

And now it is spring. 7:53 in Tel Aviv a Thursday.

And first it was Harrison and Kaufman and now your son,

just when I thought there wasn’t room enough

for another emotion in my body. I can’t stay inside like I do at 101 Dunster

and instead I look at bargains in spice.

And look!

Look at how silly it is that I thought

that underneath that hum-green cloth there wasn’t pain. How silly it is that

I thought you didn’t want to constantly swerve away in order to protect

yourself and your advertisements.

And how silly to think that there were enough people on that crimson

island that could remain vague.

How incredible it feels to be wrong as you, hum-green, exit the

frame.

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