Two Hundred Loaves
“You who in his hand were
The Sling, the Stone, the Strike
You who wait, caressing,
A thousand word a night…”
A Love Poem for the Mederano Circus Acrobat
“I came to the Circus Tent I saw her brother brushing
A horses’ mane, her mother reading a Magazine
Which on its cover flashed joy in the corner of the eye
Of Sofia Loren”
Contact with a Foreign Agent
״Oh, Rahab, Rahab
My Jericho agreement
All commentators
Could not agree.
A simple girl. A seamstress.
You weaved ropes to me by crimson threads.
And sanctuary is walls between us.״
La Cucharilla
“He traces my skin with a teaspoon,
having covered my eyes.
I finish telling the story of my life. Now it is his turn…”
There’s Not a Girl Born as Sharp as You
“I love you, so much.
For this kind of nonsense, for others.
For your wickedness, for the heart rending you provoke.
There’s not a girl born as sharp as you.”
Every Pot
“And no longer shall I
be alone for the Holidays,
And will not buy-and-sell Love,
Every pot will be Holy,
And Tel-Aviv will be Jerusalem.
And I shall try to be the Living Water
And not cry when being touched.
Every pot will be Holy
And I will be Jerusalem. “
Nice to Meet You in the Suburbs
“In a softened miniature version
Of our prosaic lives…”
A Thread Unraveled From an Old Towel
“After the call ended he stood in the kitchen for another long minute, holding the
receiver between his shoulder and his neck…”
The Oedipal Hurt
“Evening is descending and your eyes don’t seem as bright.
It is painful to look longing in the eye but without pain, how shall we heal the Oedipal hurt.
I said hurt. but heard heart.”
