Poetry & Fiction

Poetry & Fiction

The Natatorium

But in class all she could see was Jacob, his lithe movements, the panicky heat of his body when she swam beside him and let their legs kick against each other in an ecstasy of splash.
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Poetry

Blossom Road

I don’t know why I pulled over, idling, right before Christmas, two months of snow and salt plowed onto the shoulder, each squat rambler aglow, a life-size baby Jesus reborn in the DiPasquale’s front yard, why everything looked different, the …
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Poetry

Songs for the End of the World

On the other side of praise / it’s time to chop down the tall tree in the ear— / enough enough with the starlit promontories—/ a nervous condition traces itself/ in lightning in the clouds, / a little requiem rattles among Coke cans / and old vegetable tins
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Poetry

Hartford

City of gun shots, where Hartford Hospital on Jefferson Street employed my mother, a nurse, dressed in her white uniform with pearl buttons, and now employs me, forty five years later, a chaplain with a black shirt and a white clerical collar. Some nights when I sleep in the on-call room, I think I hear them page my mother’s elegant name, Loretta. “Trouble,” a nurse says, “Why is the city so troubled?”
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Morning Blessings

For Rabbi Burt Jacobson Blessed is the dog’s tongue Shamanic prayer flag Binder of vapor Harbinger of light’s arrival. Blessed is the brain stem That battled entropy All night on my behalf. Blessed are my nether, pleasure parts That double …
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Poetry

Above the Roofs of the Jewish Village

I and my imaginary lover hover above the roofs of the Jewish village. Above the courtyards, dairy barns, animal pens. Above the awnings of the chicken coops. Amid smells and clucking, cold air and wind muss her imaginary hair, soft, …
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Poetry

Wartime Train

Bone-men, smoke-souls, river-wraiths, / I am, I know, no light …
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Poetry

Bamian: A Photograph from Tricycle, 2000

(To return to the Summer 2012 Table of Contents, click here.)

Poetry

Ruins

The city as a shifting ruin / Particularly though not exclusively / As an American phenomenon / Most of my lived life / Haunts me, blocks knocked / Down in “urban renewal” now blank…
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Poetry

Night Stop

“He has only his open hand and his sweetly accusatory Bless you. We have only to turn our heads and he’s gone….”
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Poetry

Kaffiyeh on Mississippi Avenue

A poem in the Winter 2012 issue of Tikkun.
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Justice & Prisons

Poetry in the Age of Mass Incarceration

As a result of the transformation of America into an incarceration nation, the now-bursting prisons have become hotbeds of testimony, poetry, art-making, and speechifying. The books of Reginald Dwanye Betts, which are part of this flood of prison-based testimony, recount the tale of a young man who entered prison as a confused sixteen-year-old but who now, more than a decade later, has embarked on a career as a writer.
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Poetry

A Brief History of the Number Two

An online-only poem from Tikkun‘s web magazine.
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Fiction

Feral

Climbing the tree had not been a thoughtless or impetuous action. The girl had taken a Jew’s harp, a handful of dried cranberries, a scrap of blue leather, feathers, a vial of silver and turquoise beads, a needle, some thread, other secret objects, some sacred, all carefully balanced in the lap of an oversized T-shirt that the girl turned alternately into a desk, a knapsack, a handkerchief for blowing her nose, while another T-shirt became a bandanna, a snood, and a white banner that declared most adamantly: “I will not surrender.”
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Poetry

Magpies

A poem in the Fall 2011 issue of Tikkun.
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