Hat-full of heads

i know the outline of a jew

black a shadow sauntering

on sidewalks

inside the old city

on stairs

on the wall

on the way to prayer or somewhere

hat-full of heads hang

white strings hang

they are always chasing something

a bus

a child

the out line of a hat

its box prized just the same

in the morning prayer he thanks god he was not born a woman

in the morning i thank god my shoes aren’t worn on the heels

or that in this heat i opt not to wear so many layers