Lapsed vegetarian, lapsed Jew

we connect at absurd points

(one discreet eater of bacon to another)

memory like the old story

about the blind men & the elephant

each groping for proof

you will insist on your version

how you sang  Lara's Theme 

till your ribs cracked.
You persist by remembering

the story you tell like an alibi

trying to reconstruct an atmosphere

out of air wearing thin. I did not

forget my God. My God

forgot me.
When your God writes, his medium

is fire-no one can erase it.

& that's what you want, a story

whole, indestructible, Mr. Spielberg

on your doorstep, the reverse eclipse

of flash bulbs in the dark

applause to eat silence.