The poems in this post are part of a special section, curated by Ori Z Soltes and Robert Bettmann, The Jewish Experience.
OH RABBI
Her little yarmulke pinned
to her salt and pepper hair.
Her rainbow Tallit.
Her utter brilliance.
Oh reform lesbian Rabbi,
now I want to go to Synagogue. All the time.
Eagerly standing alone in the narrow pew
until my feet ache.
Watching her rock and chant.
Devouring her prophetic words.
All those years, slogging through childhood conservatism,
Utter vapid boredom.
Her internet profile says on fire with god.
I will try to believe.
She wears Birkenstocks.
I wear Birkenstocks.
I will fast on Yom Kippur
Hineni.
I will attend Torah study to learn
in her divine presence
about Deuteronomy.
And Shmita.
And Jubilee.
Oh Dodi Li.
W/HOLE
Hebrew is a language of roots. NEKEV is an aperture, a hole. nun kuf vet is the root. LENEKEV is to puncture. MINUKAV is to be perforated. The word for feminine is NIHKAYVA. Same root. A woman is made of holes. Defined by holes – by that hole. On October Seventh, the women in the Gaza envelope, the NIHKAYVA were tortured, mutilated, raped. But nobody listened to the women. The feminine binary. Or not feminine or not female or not binary – doesn’t matter. Violence conjugates the word. Weapons of death stored in tunnels. NIKBA is a tunnel. On October Seventh they bulldozed holes through the fence. That which is punctured, the MINUKAV, cannot be made whole. And oh the NAKBA, the NAKBA – the catastrophe – Arabic word. Two halves of one whole. Everyone’s holy place. Or just home.
Lisa Badner’s debut poetry collection, FRUIT CAKE, was published in 2022 by Unsolicited Press. Lisa’s writing has appeared in Rattle, the New Ohio Review, The Satirist, PANK, Fourteen Hills, Unbroken, Poetica, The Fruit Slice and others. Lisa lives in Brooklyn. https://lisabadner.com/
Featured image in this post: Sommerimpression I, Grey Geezer, creative commons via wikimedia commons.
