clod of radish
— must all freedom be pain?
each drop still represents blood
and you would not be saved
if you do not feel the grasp of a strong hand
somewhere between locusts and darkness
Remember:
you were trampled like vegetation
your breasts were naked
until you learned to cry out
Discuss all night
but that will not suffice—
before the conclusion, open wide the door
and shout curses at the unbelievers
I carry the matzah over a threshold
and although the distance is merely from the pantry through the kitchen
it is my passage
and a crowd where none are strangers looks up in pleasure
at the yet untasted Earth’s bread
their portion, their inheritance
sitting at the simply arranged table
our praises are lavish
every letter of the alphabet
the Jerusalem we enter
will remain what it has always been
and completely renewed for years that come
Andy Oram
April 19, 2026