Poem: Holy Objects

Be careful how you carry those prayer books,
Mother said. If you rip a page in those books
you can’t just scotch tape them or throw them
in the garbage can. You have to bury them,
because they’re holy objects. The same applies
to you. If you die at an early age we can’t send
you to a taxidermist and ask him to stuff
and preserve you. You have to be buried
sooner than later, unless you die the day
before Sabbath. No one can be buried
while God is resting. It’s like waking up
your father while he’s taking a nap. He’ll
get you back. Jews have rules.

Hal Sirowitz is the author of five books of poetry: “Mother Said,” “My Therapist Said,” “Before, During & After,” “Father Said” and “Stray Cat Blues.” His work has been translated into 13 languages and has been on NPR’s “All Things Considered” and PBS’ “The United States of Poetry.”