Judith Baumel Poems

I don’t want to hear that kind of language in this house
Try shoot shucks sugar
sheleileigh Shalala,
anything but the vowel
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When the Sinatra brothers blew off
a bunch of fingers, two thumbs, and one
eyeball among them one July 3
mishandling fireworks it seemed good—
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Corydon said, Look neighbor, the cow
from my village gave the sweetest milk.
In April a thin green-white nectar
with the flavor of the smallest new pea.
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What we could hear through the walls:
What couldn’t we hear through the walls?
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for Rabbi Manny Viñas
“I am hereby writing this…for the sake of proclaiming the sanctity of the Torah.”
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