shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Jennifer Poteet

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Paul Celan's Muttersprache

Birkenau and Buchenwald are station stops.
Shame is better than silence. Poisoned air still lingers
over new grass. I will always taste bitter herbs.
Only in German can I tell you these truths,
but not how beautiful Paris is when the light changes.
Here, the Seine has its own cold language.
When I visited Jerusalem, the Dead Sea sang to me
from the Tanakh.
Day is night. I recite the Sabbath prayers.