Friday, November 25, 2016

I thought my Hebrew teacher wanted to kill me

A sign of things to come, this narrative poem represents a night from my teens.

* * *

I lay in bed with this delusion
churning me awake
keeping me racing
my red demon horses, bloody
with rage and spittle flying
around mental track
listening to Billy Joel
on the pop radio station
"Only the Good Die Young"

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