[Some smart-aleck loser decided to hack my little poetry site — hope he got some jollies! We’ve been out of commission for a while. I am back-posting this piece, and will jump to the present presently!]
How amazing to be in Israel when the cycle of Torah reboots and goes back to Scroll One, Genesis.
In the beginning, a navel.
In the beginning, a gleam in God’s eye.
In the beginning, darkness over the surface of deep, an emptiness so charged and gusty you could hardly breathe.
In the seed of the beginning lies all potential: ribs, apples, hips, feral cats, wild bougainvillea, kings and wars, death and grieving, sexy knees, black leather jackets, billets doux, baldies, mobile phone junkies, black hats, the whole gamut into infinity.
Faraway looks, sea crashing on the rocks. Traffic circles, radiated sunsets, fission process, heartbreak and its abysses.
Trying to make order out of chaos — beresheit – was never an easy task, even for you know who. You might even say, in the beginning was the beginning, and the rest is commentary.