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Tel – Aviv – Jafo

by: Jonas Specktor

the sliced half-lemon in hand
kitchen greetings
happy birthday Solomon
sea breeze in nostrils
fresh rinds spruce up the trash
smell of city streets
scraggle of cats stuck
in the apartment windows

wander the alleys
modern Bauhaus buildings
old mosques down the way
millennial dust stuck
in the nerves
cause slight glitches in the traffic and
oily coffee

wake up from afternoon siesta
feel a light rush in my belly
like a citrus tree in bloom
take a walk down to the beach where I
sit on the rocks and wait
for the Jaffa orange sun to touch the horizon,
also maybe a vision
a cool hand on my shoulder
or more wispy strands of
magnetic lichen
growing, dying
inside and around
my ache of lank limbs, laughs and sighs

the surf growls hums and will
never quiet
content for now that I can sit here with
nowhere else to be
no name for the land to call me
but a new-old
olive idea
let the wind and airplanes sign here:

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