“the rest of you sing you others play on for the dance”
—Paul Celan
you wrestle me for the sheet
in the bed we’re not sleeping in
outside that invasive sapphire of early
clouds my commute
I eye our son in the rearview mirror
time-lapsing in his car seat
he’s four & by the looks of it he isn’t
trying to remember the future—he just is
there are times when I put the weight of my head on his heart
because I want to put him back in my head
& there are times you’d rather have him back in your heart
than out in the world
page one of the Torah
(there’s only one page)
we drink of the fruit of the vines climbing up
Jerusalem’s carcass
we drink with the thirst of teeth
trying to skin us alive in every century
we drink from the eyes of our ancestors
crying bruised-yellow hair
we drink & drink & drink
to the terms of the covenant to whom we’ve always been wed
by Chaim ben Avram
Chaim ben Avram’s poetry appears in Image Journal, Oxford Poetry, Denver Quarterly, Ilanot Review, West Branch, Tin House, and others. His hybrid work, Spiral Jetty: A Novel, is due out from 7.13 Books in 2027.
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