Hashem is a peculiar assassin:
he kills with his pipe.
There’s no anxiety in the smoke crowning his head;
it’s a shroud to fend off looks.
You can find him sitting at the corner
of the shisha house
at every hour of the day and night.
His business, you know, is haggling with fate.
Hashem knows all the words
that were never written.
But Hashem can’t read.
He can talk, when he wants to kill silence.
Mostly, he listens.
by Jason R. Forbus
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