friday, jerusalem

it’s this way, Jeremy pointed, our eyes met his long finger
the masses all moved in one direction, long black skirts brush bricks
the whole world felt like it was closing in on m—
we merged inwards, absorbed by the mass, we made it to the left lane
i’m suffocating there are too many people, too much to think about
cars stop on shabbat but no one mentions the human traffic
we continue downwards, labyrinthine streets lit by belief—
people running somewhere, we’re all from here right, why do i feel so lost the old city feels like it’s mourning something, i don’t know what
the unknowable, untouchable Divine made himself present here?
only a few feet away g-d was right up there on top of that—
my great-great-grandfather dreamt about this place as he bound
pale, shtetl arms in the leather strappings of our—
gam al ha’af, the soldier yells, i pull my mask up over my nose
we turn the corner the throbbing crowd, screaming at g-d
pushed into one corral of prayer we stand and begin to sing
a group of men with black hats grab each other, sweating, vibrating
•••
a glimmer of the dome up above looks down upon us—
my friend, wouldn’t hurt a fly, points to it—
“one day, one day,”
“one day what?” I ask, knowing the response
“one day it will be ours”
but isn’t it idolatry to focus on this one pl—
won’t that involve unnecessary bloodshe—
•••
the merrymakers below are oblivious to the eyes above,
watching the streams of humans, the huddled masses
as they celebrate, but mostly writhe and sob and wander, utterly lost—
the eyes above could be g-d or could be soldiers with uzis does it
really matter, if both can smite—
•••
a knowing eye looks down upon us
and smiles at our innocence