Tribe
A rabbi is but a gopher
who makes belief its tale rattles
selling tales & snake oil concocted
by dusty-eyed alchemists
before time was kept,
black & fringed like a widow
rocking back and forth
back and forth, spine bending
& extending over, and over,
chin folded to neck, to beard.
Maybe if he rocks hard enough,
wails with enough portent,
speaks softly enough
with salt shaker in hand,
you’ll believe you were Chosen
for something more
than forty years wandering,
wondering where the desert ends,
what an oasis is, what it smells like,
where the fuck your foreskin went.