Who’s going to play me in the movies?
I’ve given you all the clues — the writings,
photos, audio and video files,
reams of letters to friends and confidants,
the memories of my children and theirs —
(if you interview them); the impression
of my soul on the daily round; my house,
filled with books, mementos, favorite cups
and dishes, cooking pots and utensils —
What more do you need? The patina of age,
I’d guess. How would you acquire that?
How would you get into my skin?
Assume my persona? Adopt my speech?
Emulate its timbre? Its tone? — clipped,
ironic, sincere, engaged. Tell my jokes?
Portray my vivid smile, my raucous laugh,
my inner life? My moral wrestling? My gait?
My prayer? My glance? My flow? My letting go?
Comments:
Part of a triptych, along with “My Classmates are Dying” and “21st Century Man.” This is the
middle poem and the only one of the three which has so far been published. I’m pleased
that it won an Honorable Mention from the judges of the 2020 Reuben Rose Poetry
Competition, sponsored by Voices Israel, and soon to appear in its annual anthology.
