Jerusalem Slim

Jerusalem Slim *
by Michael Topa

I did not know it was Joy
And her fingers
Blessing me from words
Trapped in stone

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Now in Gethsemane
You who could not wait
One hour  sleep like salt

Scattered on the ground
But even now  I forget
Where the difference falls

Some say Elijah
Some say John
But Joy  you say nothing
And take me on

*This is what my father called Christ, alone and muttering to himself, while nursing his Four Roses whiskey at the kitchen table.

Now in Gethsemane / You who could not wait / One hour  sleep like salt

Michael Topa was born in Ann Arbor, MI and grew up there, in Texas and Afghanistan. He has worked as a Psychoeducational Consultant in the field of school psychology, and is the co-founder and current Director of Greenoaks Educational Services. This poem was a runner-up in America’s 2017 Foley Poetry contest.

 

 

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