Relentless Nostalgia
I have no relentless nostalgia
For the Dniepr river and environs
My progenitors lived all around until
They were kicked out or left
The best decision they made for us
Their descendants was to flee the disease
Of hate that infected the entire
Area my antecedents known
By the place names
Where they taught
Berditchev Medzibozh Uman
Koretz Zhitomir Zhovka Belz my
Shtetele Belz became a sh**-hole
For my ancestors they had to leave
They threw Bubbe’s candlesticks and a few prayer books
Into a worn suitcase and scrammed
Myself and all who came after me
Thank them with every breath we take
Because they left
We live.
A hundred plus years later it took that long
For something fresh to rise in that cynical part
Of our planet and another diseased megalo-maniac
With plenty of help from other corruptors
Poised to prevent the opening of windows
Onto a suffocating closed box opening on light
Ancient darkness they have all the
Problems of a declining civilization
And all the attendant dangers of clashing
Messianisms there is someone to breathe life into a
Damaged culture so when you dream
Dream up and send them a good
Vibration to open up a new
Box of gems something
Free and beautiful
Give them what we can
We are one world
And it needs us
All in our little
And big ways.
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