
Fear and Loathing in the Desert – A poem for Parsha Ki Tisa
We saw the Burning Bush on Moses’ face and we were afraid of him.
We saw the Burning Bush on Moses’ face and we were afraid of him.
When I discovered incense, in the wilds of the Venice Beach Boardwalk, as a young man in, probably, the late eighties, I didn’t know it had something to do with me.
The Ikea-like instructions to build the courtyard
of the Tabernacle have me glancing in my backyard
longing for direction.
This is not our finest moment.
Like God, I prefer a natural look to things.