Postcard #2
The best view of Jerusalem
is from Tel Aviv, one hour
(a million light years) away
where in a day and a half
of ice cream and crafts fair
and sunset services at the port
I only saw one Orthodox guy
looking out-of-place
in his black and whites.
How could he wear color
in the wretched aftermath
of the Temple’s destruction?
In Jerusalem that makes
a kind of sense, here where
the dust on the olive trees
might be a remnant of the holy stones
that dented the Roman street
where they fell, but
in Tel Aviv men wear Speedos
to play ping-pong on the beach
and my head swims because
suddenly I feel conservative
in my plain navy tank
and I realize how relative
"normal" has become, even
after a single month
in this city of gold.
— Rachel Barenblat