You shall not see your brother’s ox or sheep straying, and ignore them.
[Rather,] you shall return them to your brother.
I’ve been dreaming of oxen on the freeway
blocking my exit, making me late to the thing
I was going to, which I can’t go to anyway
because of the COVID.
I’ve been dreaming of sheep straying
from my brother’s flock. My brother in 2020
may not be aware he has sheep
and their return will be a surprise.
I plan on returning all the things I find
the sheep, the oxen, the wallets.
The local lost and found will get to
know me by sight.
Rest assured if your donkey wanders
into my neighborhood, I will do everything
in my power to make sure your ass
gets back where it belongs.
Can we all agree to do the same?
Can we acknowledge we’re in this together?
Finders keepers is so 2016-2020.
Let 2021 be the beginning of the us.
Before the world burns away.
Before the virus takes us all.
Before our dedication to ourself
makes us forget about everyone else.
Los Angeles poet Rick Lupert created the Poetry Super Highway (an online publication and resource for poets), and hosted the Cobalt Cafe weekly poetry reading for almost 21 years. He’s authored 23 collections of poetry, including “God Wrestler: A Poem for Every Torah Portion“, “I’m a Jew, Are You” (Jewish themed poems) and “Feeding Holy Cats” (Poetry written while a staff member on the first Birthright Israel trip), and most recently “The Tokyo-Van Nuys Express” (Poems written in Japan – Ain’t Got No Press, August 2020) and edited the anthologies “Ekphrastia Gone Wild”, “A Poet’s Haggadah”, and “The Night Goes on All Night.” He writes the daily web comic “Cat and Banana” with fellow Los Angeles poet Brendan Constantine. He’s widely published and reads his poetry wherever they let him.
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