i.
(Three steps back, three steps forward. Adonai, open up my lips, so my mouth may declare your glory.)
Last night I spied Jesus in the dregs of the red curry
From that Thai takeout place you like,
Greasy paper boxes with orange drops of oil
Glistening beside our sins.
I could’ve sworn to all the angels
That in the light, they almost looked
Like the tear stains of our ancestors (Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob).
ii.
(Bow at the knees, then at the waist.)
The TV shrieks with a nation unraveling but I turn it off
With the click of a remote that seals my soul,
And I know as I escape to the roof
To twine your hand with mine
I will never repent enough for this.
If the word unholy is not carved behind my ribcage
Then it is surely branded on my brow.
iii.
(Close your eyes and say that last line again. Bow again at the knees.)
Six hundred and thirteen commandments—
Six hundred and thirteen whispers in my ear
When I catch myself laughing a little too hard:
Remember, your people are dying across the sea.
I know, God I know.
Every smile stains my hands a darker red.
I am both the rainbow and the flood.
iv.
(Rise up on your toes, once, twice, three times.)
According to the solicitors at my door, a dead man loves me.
I tell them I will convert
So they will go away
And so I can kneel at the altar and ask him why.
v.
(We now take a moment to whisper our personal prayers to God.)
One step forward, two steps back.
Adonai, open up my lips,
But the only glory to declare is the taste of your tears on my tongue
and I no longer know the words.