Here and There the Jasmine Blooms

by Ben Ehrenreich

It rained last night and into the morning, and yesterday too and the day before, though it had hardly rained all winter and spring. Since the previous spring really, and even that was pretty dry. The newspapers say the reservoirs are up to 26 percent again. How to write to the heart of the matter?

*

I got a voice message from A. I listened as I walked to catch the bus. Her dad is still in Rafah and refuses to evacuate. She is expecting his building to be hit any day. But where could he go that is not also being bombed? I stood on the corner waiting for the light to change. Through the little speaker of my phone I could hear her voice shaking from all the months of fear and grief. How to write to the heart of the matter?

*

The black-hole tug of the current moment is at the same time a furious centripetal swirl. No narrative could contain all this. Too many shards are flying everywhere. Analysis explains nothing. More than ever, it’s a fool’s game, a stupefacient. Metaphor is vile. How to write to the heart of the matter?