easter sunday

due to a fundamental conflict
of religious interest, i.e. the fact
that i am jewish,
and also, on an aesthetic level,
my unease with the image of an aging pope
and what it takes to get a blessing outta the guy,
i am listening to the church bells ring
from the comfort of my own home,
bypassing easter sunday in favor of
really good french toast and fresh oj,
thinking about an afternoon of the sunday times,
a jigsaw puzzle, laundry, a nap, fingerpainting,
thinking of anything but the glorious rise of the dead.

though it's crossed my mind,
this last week, the schiavo headlines,
the fight for the life of a woman who
may or may not be smiling at the camera,
a woman with a mother who's claimed
of tears appearing in the corner
of her daughter's eyelids,
a woman with a father who's convinced
he felt, during a hug, a fingertip of pressure
from daddy's little girl.
the television audience wondering
will she rise
will she rise
will she ever rise again.

---

where was i?

home on easter sunday,
listening for church bells,
full from french toast and oj and
not waiting for a pope's blessing,
thinking about naps and puzzles and laundry,
far from miracles and not minding it in the least,
imagining the good stuff,
like how wonderfully thick the new york times might be
this week, and will i finish the crossword
and who's gotten married, and should i go to, say, belize,
and will they offer me the job, and is it time
to wash the pillowcases and oops
i've run out deoderant and paper towels.

what's amazing, really, is
the miracle happens regardless.
outside my window,
two birds are chasing each other
like children
and the daisies, which last week
i had given up for dead,
appear to be blooming.

-----
on another note:
this is the Stick It Game
sent to me from Mark Boyd. fun fun. now you try. you're supposed to send it to 3 people.

You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451: which book do you want to be?
I’m sure I read this but don’t remember a thing. Not a big Ray Bradbury fanatic, but it was probably required reading, along with They’re Eyes Were Watching God and 1984.

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?
Absolutely. I think I had vague crushes on both Michael and Katherine, the title characters in Judy Blume’s “Forever,” a coming-of-age story about first love and first sex. I felt, rather deliciously, like a voyeur during their bedroom scenes.

The last book you bought was:
Break Every Rule: Essays on Language, Longing, and Moments of Desire by Carole Maso

The last book you read:
The True and Outstanding Adventures of the Hunt Sisters by Elisabeth Robinson

What are you currently reading?
Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life by Amy Krouse Rosenthal

Five books you would take to a desert island:
Forever by Judy Blume, anything by David Sedaris, James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl, The Hite Report on Male Sexuality by Shere Hite, and probably a book of Mary Oliver’s poems.

Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons) and why?
Andrea Scher, because she may enjoy answering the questions; Mikhal Stein (sister), because I’d be interested in what she had to say; and Cara Wick, for both reasons.