A Poem for Purim

Lynching Haman

Strange fruit
spoon dolloped
into the floury center
of this soon to be folded over cookie.

Your ears,
We rip from the side of your head and chew,
Tyson-Holyfield ritually re-ineacted.

There are songs about the hat
you once purchased from Shushan’s finest haberdashery
If it didn’t have three corners, would you have, indeed, chosen more of a beret?

We erase your name from our files.
We shout it down.
We write it in chalk on the bottom of our Florsheim’s and we stomp.
It is great fun.

your limp body on a rope
let us rejoice!
light and happiness!

We should have warned you that in our literature all evil-plans backfire.
But then again, you should have known that every Jew fights an internal civil war.
When vengeance wins, we celebrate with either cookies or donuts.