Bedtime

I am falling sitting up asleep
asleep sitting falling, I am up
I asleep, am sitting, up falling
Falling up sitting, I am asleep---
I am falling asleep sitting up.

Haiku for St. Louis Summertime

wh sh wh sh wh
sleeping to a whirring noise;
the fan gets no rest.

Notes from my notebook, July 21

My tongue has chickpea-shaped indents where the falafel has regularly rested, my eyes have indents the shape of minarets and crosses and the Star of David. My ears hear a buzzing that combines bells and waves, children shrieking, Arabic chanting, air conditioning, and religious fervor. It is too much to take in and too much to let out.
I must try to hold it all while letting it all go.

I don't know what I'm talking about.
I could be talking about camel's milk being a natural Viagra
(according to local lore)
or about how it never rains in Israel,
or the colors of Palestine's flag,
but I think I'm really talking about the inability to write
and the jumble that leaves in my brain
and how I try to cover that jumble up by making it seem like I'm talking about something,
but really here I am rambling on about nothing
and maybe that turns it into something,

but maybe that just leaves me with Druze children
and sand in my shoes
and a backpack with a ripped zipper
or a plate from Tabgha
or three dried apricots
which some magnificent stranger will multiply
to feed all the hungry people in the airport and then all the hungry in Tel Aviv,
including the homeless man
that might be dead
sleeping under the kosher Burger King
which does not serve camel and chips,
but maybe it should.

Some notes from my notebook, July 19

Soon & Now

on a plane in Tel Aviv, going to Eilat
soon I will be able to see the Negev
soon I will be where Israel, Jordan, and Egypt meet
soon the slope of my nose will be parallel to the clouds
soon beauty will become monotonous
soon the waves will eat the earth.

now the clouds are balloons filled with hot air, lifted by a buoyancy that they don't understand
now the desert looks like a sandbox that hands have pinched mounds into
now someone is handing me the Jerusalem Post in Hebrew
now I am freezing in this conditioned environment. above the desert.

this trip is a collection of notes, prayers, people
a cacophony of sound and lights
a serendipitous meeting of friends
a blazing sun
3 languages, 3 religions, 1 country, 1 Palestine

there is so much I don't understand here because
I don't speak Hebrew
I don't speak Arabic
I don't speak religious
my tongue is not orthodox
my thoughts are not conservative
my actions do not reform
my clothing does not cover my shoulders or knees or hair
my knees do not bend towards Mecca--
I do not belong.

but I was the only one crying in Yad Vashem
but I have more rights as a tourist than some Palestinians
but I AM ChristianMuslimJewishIsraeliArab
WomanManChildAdultJesusMosesMohammed
& I do belong.