Destructed Blues

She/ma Yis\ro/el
A/do\nai e/lo/hei\nu
A/do\nai e/chad

Ro/do\do/lo el/e
nai/hei\nai ma/A/A/chad
She—yis

Hey hey Yankel, she do roll
all/ Hey hey Israel
she do roll low

Hey hey Yankel, she do not
miss\ Hey hey Israel
she do no more

Henrietta Szold (P.S. 134)

By the seashore outside in

a broken morning hustle,
lines which form the follow,
onward then to Madison diagonal
is Samuel Dickstein Plaza
minuscule scalene, tired wheeling

backpacks, corduroy dungarees,
visor ball caps, bandannas,
face shields, anything observing
order to blot,

block, so
a hindrance of a
sun-wisdom, bank

and riverside: earful wide melody.

Boston Creme

Centers, I know about centers. Doughnut,
cupcake, Jewish Community,

centers, I know about centers.

Centre Street, or Center Street, Hakeem,
Akeem “The African Dream”; Centers

I know about, centers,
I, know about centers.

Day 183, midway aside a Poplar tree,
Mecca, Jerusalem, sweet Mother

McCree, centers, I know about,

centers. What the centaurs ate, when
the center held, who the center was?

Wes Unseld!

Centers. I know
all
about, centers.