Anat Zecharya Poems

Herzl says
hands up
Herzl says
put your hands on your head
Herzl says to me
count to three
Herzl says
lick your lips
Herzl says to me
get down on your knees
Herzl says inhale the scent
of a man who is good
for your health
Herzl says to me come
let's strip now
Herzl says, I personally envisioned
you spreading your legs
and turning over.
Herzl, I say
I'm opening wide I'm expanding
I'm looking at my Garden of Eden
which you never knew
because the truth is mine only
when I alone
hold an apple in my mouth.
...

35 soldiers on active duty and several civilian employees at an air base have been conducting sexual relations with a 14-year-old girl over the past year. Many of the suspects claimed during questioning that the girl had told them she was of enlistment age."
Hannan Greenberg, Ynet News
The first
places your head on his naked lap
and one might think
you weren't being forced but rather
thanked and your head stroked.
The second slides slowly down your back
the feelings are new
and you can still concentrate.
The third inserts three fingers, says
"Don't move." You don't,
the map of greater Israel
in your eyes.
The fourth moves aside a pile of reports
on air accidents in the south
and takes you from behind.
A great love you think
a great love scorches me
and won't let up.
You raise and lower your arms
your body stretches to the edge of the sky
your hands cupped for the rain.
The unstoppable fifth and sixth
course into you.
The arrogant salt of the earth, avoiding eyes,
those waiting their turn. Soon your body may look beautiful
even to you.
...

They ask: what
have you been doing lately?
I answer: waving castanets in the air
from left to right, up and down,
and so my arms ache at night.
I'm looking around,
waiting, just waiting
until I have the strength
to fall down.
Meanwhile a shout takes off
while I myself in complete silence
let some silly
cooing and ahh-ing escape
from the back of my neck
nothing else
after "Everything's fine,
thanks a lot."
...

She says
don't touch me
only one more step left
one firm stride
before she reaches the water.
Don't touch me. And she drops down.
Moving lightly
she sees her shadow
grow on the bottom.
Don't touch me. Nipples float
surprised by specific gravity
reaching for the bull's eye of the sun
and everything she touches
ripples behind her as though behind a stone
for no more than two
or three perfect circles.
Don't touch me
she sinks and prays for limpness
to weaken the mechanisms of thought
and calm the flesh
as after lovemaking.
Don't touch me
don't touch me because I haven't yet risen
from under the heaps of water with which
the world can't fool me, and all that brown
above her head opens into a sea anemone
crowned by sentient anemones
her center opens.
Under the water
everything thinks
like she does.
The fish enter and exit her
as if among themselves
and she continues to hold her breath
inside.
For I still haven't risen
she says
and everything she says is completely
lucid.
She has no breath but she
won't rise until someone comes and takes
a snake of fire from his lips
and she believes
that he will love her forever.
Don't touch.
...

It will console me
sway right and left
crane its neck
lean on sharp elbows
pale round fingers
encouraging different cloud shapes
at each curve
in a tightly closed space
and steam strikes the window
and no dog barks.

Youth will console me
lowering a rib cage
over which I will soon rise
slowly.

Youth will console me
rest a hand on a head
grab my hair
flutter eyelashes
leave the grass glittering
and a lip bitten.

Youth will console me
my flesh and blood relative
I wanted to enjoy
cutting into flesh
I wanted to be both sexes
I wanted to be fought over there
Pierced to the hilt

I guided a hand to my chest
as though in thanks for applause
when that unequaled brightness
flooded over everything.
Outside everybody talks about me
and that's the way
it should be.

Only youth will console me
in broad daylight.
Resting in double beds
clutching down blankets to my heart
doesn't do it for me at all.
...