Divine Honors

My Award/The Jews of Lukow

My Award/The Jews ofLukow It comes at a good time, I say across the table next morning blessed by Muzak floating down over toast. We talk of children our life continuing on the planet where a new study shows the complicity of tens of thousands of citizens, good burghers come to watch, staying to slaughter not coerced as we'd thought but diligent volunteers— as Bosnianskilling Muslims, Khmer Rouge the Cambodians, HutusTutsies in Rwanda Turks Armenians through our long human history. So last night I rose and walked to the stage, ascended and turned to the lights, to the microphone as to a lover's mouth, and everyone standing, clapping ... Not mind you that I deserveit not for anything I put my mind to only my body's luck until now: this morning the first rolled leaves of the straight line of crocus through arid soil on the drivewaystrip at six the sky lighter better than the deep absence cold proclaimed allwinter in case I'd forget. Oh, glad to be here. 100 And I suppose they in the auditorium last night, the ones standing, were glad too so many of us in the ground — Rose Meile whose mother checked the furnace's clang while Rose stayed in the kitchen mopping the floor. Then she wasmotherless, burned but not up the explosion a goad to the child then the woman who helped us all even with the kind of cancer that took her in. A walk in the country myriad of what's wild, that gorgeous catalogue revived and then the cultivars in our garden showy, flashy the oranges and florescents and the natural Stars there with hybrid vigor. All winter looking up following the flocks of geese on their round from Saint Elizabeth's to Home Lake and back, appearances of the wild: broad V, exchangedleaders and the muscular flap in concert. All illusion, the flocks tame as Romulus and Remus s mom with two human sons to rear. In recent dreams you say no to ice cream and won't stay by the table wheremy child is radically changed nor buy the wire basket of tomatoes at the farm stand you speed by like a demon, a ribbon ... The man entering 101 with a cell phone to his ear takes the next booth. He has the right to command our attention from the page. It's business. Or only a break from loneliness we all want deprived of conversation yearning for the best seller explaining THEcalculus, gorgeous, or company on the rack. He orders bacon and a bear claw pastry held together with butter such cheap thrills. Last night at camp or a conference in a hotel with crowds I put forward my best foot for an encounter with a man so youn£ he's the rival of my kids, with a follower younger than he is. He flirts, I resist preoccupied as usual with wardrobe. Next, a cataclysm of nature some riot, a maniac with a gun. When I return to the desk exhausted after hours of eyebeams you're gone, with her with my homework, which you lose, and I'm in the wrong school again. But look, you two in a corner over coffee. In my room the message on the machine 102 the real thing, you're lost, missing in action, believed to be dead, and my grief drizzles me awake to dawn ... The miracle of the mind prescient please God no, only busy at its planting and excavatingRussian, German, English selves electric and busy remapping and presenting alternative histories. So yes, now, finally I've been given the perfect award for being human. Poem, as always we salute you. 103 ...