Portrait of the Book As Golem
So here I am at the river bank,
harvesting clay for my novel,
hands slick with the dark stuff,
as prolific as birth blood.
Back at the house, I turn it
on the wheel of life, make a golem,
knead the long ends into legs, hands,
twist the plot like a load of challah,
build the creature, the avatar,
With my left point finger, closest
to the heart, I write the name of G-d
on his vast, unknowing forehead.
Animation always surprises.
He rises, looks about in wonder
like the first man in Eden,
his eyes still full of innocence.
I hand him an AK47 and a full clip,
and let him seek out readers.
I am done with this one now.
I turn to the next book,
my conscience clear as Eve’s
and damned for my own eternity.
“Portrait of the Book As Golem” copyright © 2013 Jane Yolen