Bezalel, son of Uri, son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah,
had made all that the Lord had commanded Moses
Bezalel
the Frank Gehry of his day
a nice Jewish artist –
the lineage to prove it.
He made what he was
told to make.
I want to see it in a museum
or still in use, but
Bezalel’s work
is buried under the
dust of history
or was a story.
I hope the former
I travel the world with
a shovel and
an ancient dream
hoping for a glimpse
of a spec of
what I’ve been told.
. . . according to the holy shekel.
Oh Holy shekel
you used to be just
a regular piece of money
I could have bought a
sandwich with, until I
gave you to the Cause
and upped your value
right into the clouds.
The copper of the waving was seventy talents
The words keep changing
or rather what they mean.
You can’t say talent today
without increasing your price.
It used to be a measurement of weight
until the Romans fell and now
we only pretend our talent
has weight.