Moses cried out to God, saying, “Please, God, please heal her!”
I always tell them less is more –
the poets at the microphone
the rabbis at their pulpits
the book writers with their
many, many pages.
I always tell them less is more –
though I wonder how that applies
to my bank account, my supply
of snack foods, my disappearing hair.
I always tell them less is more –
not in comedy, of course.
Extend the bit, into the ground.
My comedy lives in the ground
where jokes crawl like worms.
I always tell them less is more –
terms and conditions, white space
in design (have I told you my fantasy
of turning in a blank sheet of paper
and committing to it being
my finest work?)
I always tell them less is more –
but the tendency is to take up
all the given space, to fill it and
rush through it so every word
ever thought by people-kind
gets its due.
I always tell them less is more –
the simplest melodies fill up
the entire heart. Like Moses
who could have said the whole Torah
but instead gave four words –
please, God, heal her.
You’re not going to take me seriously
if this poem reaches a second page.
And Moses cried heal Miriam… Sometimes
the fewest words say the biggest things.