I’ll Stop the World and Melt With You
Same story every year.
The rich man
A big sinner
The pious rabbi
Alone in his study.
How can I atone?
We will go to the blacksmith.
Put all your gold in the fire
Melt it down
Dip in a spoon and drink the molten metal.
The rabbi’s shaky hands tie a blindfold around the rich guy’s head.
Are you ready to pay the price for your sins?
A spoonful of marmalade.
New Year’s Buzz
I can not open the honey.
That was what they used to lay the linoleum in the breakfast room.
Thus begins this five thousand seven hundred something new year
congealed crud blocking natural sweetener
I wanted it to be another way
That I would have prepared
Brand new jar,
purchased off a beekeeper,
marked with a homemade label
Busy B Farms
or the best of all, a label-less product,
little bits of honeycomb suspended in light brown goo.
But I worked up to the very last minute.
Blocked out the sound of each morning’s shofar blast,
Opted out of the self-reflection thing altogether.
Should I take a hammer to the thing?
Immerse it in ice water?
Drill a hole in the top with my Black & Decker?
My beloved hands me a floppy circular piece of rubber
Open up, Gates of Repentance.