The Poetry of
Michael G. Khmelnitsky

Cappelbaum pulls on his slim blues
with each day ever slimmer

he wears his favourite striped shirt
the belt he's had for decades

is worn  the leather has too many
holes  he loves it so


                               Cappelbaum wants to say
something meaningful  Cappelbaum

wants to pray  but all he can
muster are the head ends of

that which he can't say in many tongues
just the start  he mouths


stops so  starts again