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I can talk too much
When I feel down and needy
And miss my control.

When you can hear thoughts
Words don’t make it that much worse
But they make it worse

There are always tests
from inside and from outside.
Makes me want to hide.

Only breathing is
(maybe) better than writing
both keep me alive.

Not one more poem
I say to myself right now
And then this appears.

Often a stranger
In the middle of the night
I get Billy Joel

Get yourself a friend:
Judge people favorably,
and that includes him
(especially him).

For attendance, I
need you to be present, and
also to be here

I need time outdoors
walking alone does wonders
and G-d is with me

re shach manot

Morah Sue was wrong
your two mishloach manot
can share one bracha

Your Rebbe was wrong
no messenger's needed for
mishloach manot

Such a never mind
It may be time to let go
He thinks, holding on

My generation
Is used to things improving.
Now we’re wondering.

Writing in real time
Why does it feel so unreal,
Like the are no words?

Out of the foxhole
I am not an atheist
but sometimes forget