he was there

he smiled encouragement a man of honor
representing family ethics
white collar
mourned the 6 million
they were martyrs
Baruch atoi adanoi-as we light the candelabra
a holy man who hadn’t been to shule
schools of thought fishes swimming opposite in twos
upon the Larchmont lawn the morning dew
he was there but seldom home, were you?
the evening papers Adli Stevenson
he believed in him like no other mothers son
righteous indignation bright external gifts
all that money could buy-two dollar tips
cars boats colleges trips
faithful never able to come to grips
how he loved horseradish on his gefilte fish.

mend my mood

reprise alive the well
wisdoms like minions of pigeons
in the park feed on birdseed
a friendly stranger sells
I am caught between the passive
heart and salt among the lung
it is certainly an epiphany this side
of wellness working, the angels
mend my mood on a moonless Monday
afternoon-for in the gloom of
heartfelt ruin-in tune with
june-stewing in her own juices
till the good man took her by the hand and said to Mrs Kaplan your
daughter holds much water
no salt diet/should be bland-and as dad would emote-“then I wrote”–my
daddy would sing, “carry my body back to France, amid the bleeding
corpses-and then armed to the teeth i will rise
from my grave, for my emperor to do battle”.