We live on a holy mountain where the crows and the Crown Plaza rise higher than our expectations and the golden dome is only a restored reflection of the absolute. All night the bodies of prophets break out of the clouds calling, "Doom, doom." Like the carp we bring home from the market, our lives are wrapped up in newsprint. My friend says she'd like to cut off her head and let all the Jewish history run out. We lift weights together twice a week to increase our bone density.
From Threshold by Shirley Kaufman. Copyright © 2003 by Shirley Kaufman. Reprinted by permission of Copper Canyon Press. All right reserved.