in Jerusalem, those who believe themselves
righteous holler shabbos, shabbos, shabbos
at those driving sleek cars through narrow streets.

This rift is a sadness
for the world’s holy capital
It reflects the causes of the ancient
downfall of the kingdom.

All Jews could be sharing wine,
braided bread,
on the 7th night,
no matter how they arrive
at the city or how they leave—

but not before saying,
L’chaim, l’chaim, l’chaim,
louder than a dozen
thunderclaps above
the Jordan River,

as the great world
to come slips
over this one.

Author of the book “Bar Mitzvah Dreams,” Baruch November’s poems have been featured in NewMyths.com, The Forward, and Lumina. He teaches writing and literature at Touro College.