I slathered it all in literary
Yiddish. Ten years later
to finish a
final line of
(the) one book
begun: you cry
‘cyclamens’,
‘swinebread’
or ‘sowbread’ at
daybreak, hands
slack snooping
Issac’s ritual
apparition to a
reveal – Out
repairing
mystery for
loss – Semi-
formal belly
of rhyme, careful —
an ending soon.