the kohen shall quarantine him for seven days.
I鈥檝e been at home for five weeks
mostly sitting in this same office chair.
My exercise consists of long walks to
the bathroom and meager weights at night.
I overheard someone in a poem recently say
To heck with birds. I鈥檓 not sure why that
resonates with me today, as the outside
becomes a memory. As my car doesn鈥檛
remember what it鈥檚 like to be on.
As the delivery people I know by name
now ring the doorbell and flee before
I have the chance to thank them for their service.
As the seven day quarantines mandated in
this week鈥檚 Torah portion seem so quaint.
We used to dream of quarantines that
lasted only seven days. When all we had
to worry about were spots on our skin
and the occasional discolored hair.
When the priest鈥檚 job was to behave like
a doctor, and that examination was holy.
Now there is nothing on my skin and
all my hairs are the color they are supposed to be.
Even the grey ones are giving me a
comforting thumbs up.
When this is all over, the ritual bath I鈥檒l take
will last seven days. I鈥檒l send photos to the past
to gain priestly assurances. I鈥檒l never
not leave the house again.
Los Angeles poet Rick Lupert created the聽聽(an online publication and resource for poets), and hosted the聽Cobalt Cafe weekly poetry reading for almost 21 years. He鈥檚 authored 23 collections of poetry, including 鈥溾��, 鈥溾�� (91传媒 themed poems) and 鈥溾�� (Poetry written while a staff member on the first Birthright Israel trip), and most recently 鈥溾�� (Poems written in Memphis, Nashville, and Louisville 鈥� Ain鈥檛 Got No Press, May 2019) and edited the anthologies 鈥溾��, 鈥溾��, and 鈥�.鈥� He writes the daily web comic 鈥溾�� with fellow Los Angeles poet Brendan Constantine. He鈥檚 widely published and reads his poetry wherever they let him.
