ISSUE: Spring 2012
Late Saturday afternoon, late winter,
they sway and clap, not wanting
to let the chorus go, and when their teacher asks,
What are you, dead?
a boy jumps onto the table, his best shoes
finding plastic cups and leftovers,
and another takes a friend onto his back,
as if spinning in circles, faster and tighter,
answered the question. To run to god
and return: when you close your eyes and sing,
know the first boy atop the table
yesterday taught a prisoner how to pray
and tonight will wait in line to swab
the inside of his cheek because he heard
a Jew somewhere is sick.
