We hear in this oven

this scented room

the sighs of dough



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