I CAN’T CRY ANYMORE
Since the Blues swallowed my tongue.
I’m an old Jewish Inuit who has been
put out to sea on a huge floating iceberg.
I hope my Yupiks know what they’re doing,
because it’s pretty grim out here— no mirth,
only an Albatross flies by and could be an omen
or just a big bird hoping to keep me company.
When my name appears on the dark side of the
moon, I’ve been told t’s time to leave, and I should
throw away my mukluks, and look for a big hand
that closes the curtain.