Jacob Newberry
Florida, U.S.A.
No one asks
how long I’ve been waiting
or if I’ve been listening since dawn for the noon bells from calvary
or if I kneel toward zion when the rain begins
and the gutters fill with trash flowing past me like an oil slick
burning on a river
no one calls from the street
like jeremiah crying out: bring forth the bones
of the kings of judah but I see everything
saturdays are quiet though I sit by the gate
hearing songs of gomorrah while a man calls
from the street: you are an arab
step back from there before they shoot you
while another man calls from the street:
you are a jew
they will not shoot you here oh sabbath city
your offerings are burning
there is no homeland since the gates of the city
turned to gallows there are only soldiers
who call from the ramparts: stay where you are
oh jeremiah
see jerusalem is falling
and no one says:
there is a place for you
and no one says:
go through damascus gate
and no one says: there will be no more
songs of gomorrah