rusty nails & rat poison

miri come murmur
in my american ear;
israel is a muddle of men &
you are a woman winnowing out the
scraps, collapsing
in chocolate shops—i saw this—i know you—i picked you up
by your cheek we rode
buses naked & ready
touch us, explode us.

                                  when it happens,
they’ll know us by our parts
alone, so sit
next to me let’s mix all the
bits & pizza. if you were ever
an object, now you’re many.
if you were ever too
soft, now you’re a soggy
slice of ground.

 
Nat Sufrin

Nat Sufrin is a Fellow at the Yeshivat Hadar in New York, studying ancient Jewish texts. His poetry has appeared in RHINO, Nacht, and The Swarthmore Literary Review.

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