by R. Joseph Capet
Dressed in their blue tzitzit,
policemen stand in the corral,
looking very much as I imagine
the priests of Aaron must have looked
arrayed around their golden calf.
Moses, I'm sure, looked crazy, too—
hair long and beard longer,
muttering something incoherent...
“Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house
nor anything that is thy neighbor's.”
He, too, probably sounded high.
He'd breathed a lot of smoke atop the mountain.
It is a shame
the priests of Aaron
(many of them were good men),
who had walked so long in the way of the LORD,
did not know when to get out of it.
R. Joseph Capet is a poet, playwright, and essayist from the West Coast whose work, in both English and Esperanto, has appeared in a variety of magazines on both sides of the Pacific, including decomP, Taj Mahal Review, and 'ITCH'. When not teaching high school history, he currently serve as a poetry editor for P.Q. Leer.
He can be reached at: firstname.lastname@example.org