Why have you come to me, since you hate me,
and you sent me away from you?
Genesis 26:27
Some of the friends I have today are
not the same ones I used to have.
Things change. Words are spoken
like feathers from a shattered pillow –
so easy to spread, and impossible
to gather back.
Just recently I received an email
telling me all about my lifetime of
mistakes, and as a result they
would definitely not be helping me
re-home kittens, any time soon.
I’d rather build a bridge than burn one
but getting the permits can take forever
and if I’m the one who broke it, the approval
committee is already against me.
I’ve come to accept there are
holes in my heart that will remain
forever vacant.
There’s only so much room for
demolition in there so I try to receive
everyone as if they’re one of the thirty-six.
That’s universal. I remember my
high school friend, who is still a friend,
who told me he wanted to meet everyone
as if they were the Buddha.
Or our music teacher, of blessed memory
who told us everyone is a goldmine.
This is what I think about when
they cut me off on the freeway.
Their soul is pure and good.
Their intentions only momentarily lapsed.
Every one, a human with blood and breath.
Never to be sent away.
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 25 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.
