It’s the perfect weather for some Single Humor.
When you're too exhausted to write anything except poems about being exhausted.
They sat side-by-side—Dad steering, Mom in the passenger seat—each speaking Yiddish so my brother and I wouldn’t know what they were saying or where
we were going next.
When the Kotel is your ballot box....
5775 - There's something so comforting in its sturdy symmetry. And Lord knows we need some comfort this year. So let's make the most of 5775's palindromic power with some spoken-word in its honor.
My thoughts while observing Brown University's class of 1939
Another terror victim has died. She has a remarkable story. This poem is offered up in her memory.
Life has always been brutal and unfair, and we have always survived and even thrived. That won't change now.