Had we been sitting side by side
by Michael Eilan
In the beginning God bugged all telephone lines
& the sap in my fruit trees & the insects that eat it
& the blogs I never wrote about them
& the cancer in my best friend’s belly.
My friend lives in a city full of trees and polite dogs
And bits of public and private souls
That wink like obedient leaves in a totem tree
As high as the atmosphere
I envy their rich and their buttery lives,
Their private gods with no price tag
Their casual goods and sneaky luck
But am beginning to doubt his omnipresent ears.
Hosanna. If this order is too big to understand
Than why do I know that Job’s whale wasn’t Jonah’s?
My divine logic is cleaved
Like logs that smell of glory
At the simultaneous exclusion and inclusion
Of my pipsqueak will.
Michael Eilan is a poet, editor and organizational consultant living in the Galilee. His most recent poem at Ariga is This is Eesh, nearly a mister
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