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by Marc Jampole
When others sing, In Jerusalem next year,
shunning David’s city, chant instead
Wherever you want to be:
in Paris or another European hub
studying the texture of paint under glass,
in the dust behind the plate, mask on,
in movement eyes closed swinging free
above the games and funnel cake,
swatting back half-budded branches
in the sound of boots slogging,
well-oiled, feet in sand, adrift in a book of lust,
or behind the closed door of a small room
overlooking a large view of the world
well-lit walls cluttered with fragments
hunched on a slightly hard chair
by the tools you need to think about things.
Marc Jampole, a member of our editorial board, is the author of the poetry book, Music from Words. This poem was published in A Poet’s Haggadah (2008, Beyond Baroque Literary Center).