A solemn rabbi advised young Carl not to
mimic a happy mole, burrowing blind into the black.
Books were musty but filled with wisdom
that was terribly difficult to apply.
Confusion took over and raged through
his consciousness like a virus.
Women were soft but no help
yet he drifted in the aura of the older ones,
perfumed with exotic spices
he came to recognize as cannabis,
ginger, smoky green cardamon.
At least they fed him although few kept kosher.
He no longer cared.
Younger women tended to laugh which also worried him.
What was so funny?
He left by bus when everyone was sleeping.
He wrote one note to Ariel to say goodbye and
not much else.
There was no name for her affliction.
Where was he to go but California ? Could there be
any ground sloths left roaming the Great Plains?
She telephoned him. Whining, she warned that
the town was getting hit by maniacs and their proxies.
He told her he had to go. But what about the Russian
dossiers? The molestation of minors? she demanded.
But all he cared for was truth.
The tax code is too complicated for all of us.
The world doesn’t like it when Jews fight back.
There is sadness in serial numbers and blank pages .
Thousands of black crows thunder above.
Never believe the false narrative. Uppagus has many fans.
Yeah, but don’t forget this, she said: I’ve seen you naked.