A Qaemot is a sort of prayer for a Jewish exorcism. This is part of a new series on “exorcism poems” for Rosebud Ben-Oni.

Only women appear in the Heritage Poem™,
and the mother is the most important.

Tomorrow, / I promise I will unbury my fingers / from yesterday’s losses.

I have never felt more like a tourist / as when taxied in the streets of my birthplace

Scoop the mixture of split peas, water, your aunt’s eyelashes into your hands.

we don’t keep honey in the house because we don’t need it. / instead, she dips her fingers in my tea.

When I sweat, I smell my past. We joke / now that I could start good, hearty meals / in my armpits

Or is it a Sonnet. Because I can’t sing with a mouthful / of pus.

I STILL GO OUT EVERY NIGHT DETERMINED TO COME BACK BRUISED.

Above the North Atlantic, his lola miles away––her endless hands his face hasn’t fallen into since ‘03, a red hibiscus perched on her windowsill he’s forgotten the scent of.