by | Dec 8, 2020 | CNF, Issue Eighteen

We cram into one cage                                                                       stiff as Barilla in a box 


—we break

as elevator door closes a giraffe-neck tall man backs in blocks mini-me bringing us eye-to-butt              

my monkey mind unleashes: god forbid he farts!

I sidestep left                                                   two women jabber in histrionic Hebrew       saying

ma pitom (no way), iefshar (impossible), lo yuman (unreal)—context MIA—at floor 4, they exit

                        silence spreads                                   

                                                                                                                        like melting butter

god forbid a siren howls: its unwelcome, unnerving, eardrum-perforating, up-down-up-down, like a wolf in heat or on the hunt, only day 2 of a centuries-old struggle

it’s real

Hamas lobs M-75s 

Israel sends F-16Cs 

Israel sends F-16Ds 

Hamas lobs J-80s  

Trump tweets  

Egypt threatens 

Qatar refinances





monkey mind curses kid on cellphone, zapping excessive radioactive rays but seriously god forbid god better forbid god fucking better forbid: the situation— ha-matsav a Hebrew euphemism for political shitshow as we climb upward, monkey mind resurges god forbid a rocket strikes this 16-story tower   

grisly, un-see-able images flicker of Manhattan 9-11 of bodies out windows, of bodies in freefall, of bodies in frantic motion, of bodies midair, of bodies raining down with nothing to stop them, to save them, definitely not god  

monkey hits manic low

if I don’t believe in god     

god forbid means nothing

at floor 7, doors open: my stop, full stop.                                                                               STOP!   

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