Trapdoor Day

Trapdoor day
Awoke before dawn
Wanted to fall through the floor.
Forget the wrong side of the bed–
If only I could get up at all!
Would that it were night, not blasted morning–
Would that I could die here in the desert–
Would that I could fall into sleep, and out of this feeling I’m feeling!

Tears, all day tears, but from the depths of what divine despair?
Rivulets streak my face as I work.
The phone does not ring; I am grateful.
Nobody knocks; I am grateful.
Passing a hallway mirror, I grimace at red eyes, red nose, wet cheeks.
I prepare a face to meet any faces that I meet:
“Fine, fine, fine, and how are YOU?”
I’m full of it today.

At night I eat garlic and nobody kisses me, no one complains.
The chickpeas dance in the pot on the stove, trying to loosen me up.
Chicks, please!
Somehow the radio turns itself on; why am I suddenly singing?
Who’s making faces at me in the mirror?
Who’s making faces back?
Look who’s come out from the trapdoor, hey–
Look who’s come out from the trapdoor day!

2 thoughts on “Trapdoor Day

  1. wormauld says:

    so glad to have ‘met’ you. I love your verses on the Talmud but even more your poems. Anything we like can emerge from the trap door.
    I am a 68 year old retired teacher from England.I look forward to reading all your posts.Shalom Daphne
    If my full name comes up yes i do have an Arab surname my ex the father of my children is a gulf Arab. I hope that doesn’t worry you.


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