Many to Remember

by Rachel Kaufman

Break slate. Break marble. Break bread
over the sink. Break chimes, break glass, break time
in pieces like fingernails. Break blades
of grass, break glory (don’t laugh). Break
the oven and burn the toast. Break a person and
watch it melt. (The breaking is it.)
Break a ceramic plate, break the broom,
break the dustpan, watch the house
gather stones. Break the statue’s hand,
break the mother’s hand, break salt
over potatoes. Break in cycles,
break in patterns like plaid. Break snow,
break fall, break the fast
and watch the Torah
fall to the floor. Break windows,
break walls, break rocking chairs, break fingers.
Break spontaneity, break language, break dough and
bake it outside. Break the tent, break the wood,
break the matches in thirds, sit cold.
Break skin with tattoos, with numbers, with
labels. Break codes, break Eichmann, watch the trial
of evil’s left hand. Break through,
break free, break under barbed wire,
break up into the sky.

Published on November 20, 2020