The Last Jew
THE LAST JEW ELISSA ELY I wait like a commuter for the sixth day out of seven. where, in among the braids, the silverware among the breasts, the star, the afterdinner prayer and white men...
...where, in among the braids, the silverware among the breasts, the star, the afterdinner prayer and white men touching folded words like air— I wait and hold my eyes still as a gambler...
...A sign — that if I hold my breath And count, I still will live...
...A dove, a final bargain, A washed, considered fig...
...Elissa Ely is a student at Wesleyan University...
...it taps me...
...like a die I spin and call it drops against my ankles, measured as a fringed shawl against a shadow that's not mine at all— I wait until the closing spittle prayer has broken...
...where, past the wine, the Friday evening mothers beyond the curls, the beard, the tinny, crossed others and white men touching black-face books like brothersI wait, the last Jew, for an olive twig...
Vol. 2 • February 1977 • No. 5
