Dead by Zeke Greenwald

Every morning from his roomI can hear the deed:Boaz at his Jewish prayers,Bound in phylacteries. He is dead, who doesn’t wantComfort from someone;Ajax called out to the skies, notFor god, but for his mom. In my neighbors’ yards, their dogsAre left there all alone:And if you’d walk past you’d sayThere was no master home. Dogs don’t deal in silent prayers,That’s why they psalmodizeAbandoned in their … Continue reading Dead by Zeke Greenwald

Bubonic Colonic by Zeke Greenwald

Blood gets transfused into my veinsFrom a bag which from the ceiling hangs;Some pipettes from the bottom runLike legs with someone else’s blood. So the maroon cephalopodFloats from the pole it’s fastened on;Staved by a hook, it makes a squid,Who slowly bleeds out drip by drip;I lay below the drying fishOf plastic bag with blood in it. What is blood, but such basic stuff,But blood’s … Continue reading Bubonic Colonic by Zeke Greenwald

Chemical Imbalance by Zeke Greenwald

Were those really bats we sawover the Hinterhof?Or were they birds swirlingto show the evening off? And was it really hemlockWhich grew around the lake?Or was it an umbellifer,Which it wouldn’t kill to take? Was it really all that grey?Were the streets at night so dark?If Berlin was so morose,Luke, I need not pine at all. Yet German doctors wrote you rosesTo combat your stress.And … Continue reading Chemical Imbalance by Zeke Greenwald

Spartan by Zeke Greenwald

In Annie’s apartment there is some stuffFrom which thin things she’s made decorAs if she didn’t just move in there,And life worked out for her before.  Luke rearranged the furnitureIn the room where he’s been living. He uses his space better nowThan he did in the beginning.  I invite you now, look at my room:There’s not much by way of showing.I’ve kept it sparse, not confidentThat … Continue reading Spartan by Zeke Greenwald

Breathed in helium… by Zeke Greenwald

Please do not be kind to me, I think that’d be best; I’m alone and unaccustomed To any easiness. I might cease to struggle forth; I might just lose heart; For I’m tense, and your tenderness Might take me apart. I’m inflated with long patience; I fear your kind relief Might strike the balloon Of my striving grief. I’ve been propelled, light and rigid, And … Continue reading Breathed in helium… by Zeke Greenwald