Thursday, December 21, 2006

Rabbi

For his birthday I took
ambrosia to the Rabbi
boxed in a recycled
Smithfield Ham container.

He will be, mid bite
the last spoon of the sweet fruit
being ladled into his
peyos-centered mouth
when the kosher bell
rings in his brain.

Gingerbread Village

Gingerbread Village

In every gingerbread village
there is a house exploded
the walls are pounded out
and the roof has fallen in
from the weight of the adornments
and the lack of interior support.

Such a house sits in close
proximity to God’s house
within sight and song.
Parishners pass it every Sunday
on their way to pray,
pitying the people who lived there,
though they never knew them.

The wrecking crew will come
and remove the candy carcass
the ginger sticky walls
the green jellied bushes
the jolly peppermint windows
the coconut snow

Left behind will be
a vacant lot, a foil floored hole
gaping in the community,
where the labors of the
home builders are forgotten
even though nobody really knew them.

©Judy Eurey