Thrush Poetry Journal
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Jeremy Radin
​

Rabbi Junco
 
It is the fool who tries to do language
to loneliness—a little junco
 
with its little talons hunting
wild boar. Summer is creeping
 
towards me with a yellow knife
in its teeth like a pirate over the side
 
of a yacht. Thank God for the little
hooded mystic of the garden—​
 
the junco, my rabbi,
my dark-eyed witness—you know
 
what you were not put here to do
& here I am again, scrolling
 
the dating app. Master,
I kneel before you in spring mud,
 
in the mud of my obscene
presumptions. I offer like seeds
 
my idiocies. With rent garments,
with dust on my head, I beg
 
your nutritious indifference.

 


Jeremy Radin is a poet, actor, playwright, teacher, and extremely amateur gardener. His poems have appeared (or are forthcoming) in Ploughshares, The Colorado Review, Crazyhorse, Gulf Coast, The Journal, and elsewhere. He is the author of two collections of poetry: Slow Dance with Sasquatch (Write Bloody Publishing, 2012) and Dear Sal (not a cult press, 2017). He was born and lives in Los Angeles where he earned his MFA in Eating Large Sandwiches at Brent’s Delicatessen. Follow him @germyradin




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