We hear in this oven
this scented room
the sighs of dough
rising
a confection of worldly
advice, a jelly
of dreams, the light
of these souls
bursting blackbirds
in a hurricane
of light
a marzipan of
human form and spirit
spreading a marmalade
breasts lips
soft hair thighs
in ribbons and foiled paper
that will feed us
and those
in the sewers of Stalingrad
the streets of Tripoli Benghazi
their Jew eyes
liquid sugar their Jew teeth
without cheeks their Jew tummies
so pure so thin so fine
hurry my children my church
a feast a wealth
a delicious legato
a slow wind of notes
Photo by Oliver Regelmann
