My mother was a Cohen and so
as far as I know, I’m descended from Aaron
and have priest running through my veins.
After reading the description of
what they had to wear, I’m not sure
how long I would have lasted in the job.
I don’t own a tie.
I remember leaving a job at a new organization
shortly after they announced everyone
would have to wear a uniform.
When my wife asks what I’m going to wear
to an event of some kind
I mumble something about the sky
and then get out of that conversation
as fast as I can.
I suspect it may be a front.
I’m maddeningly specific about
how I want my t-shirts to fit.
Addie begs that I buy a second pair
of jeans, so that when the ones I wear
every day, all day, forever, wear out
there won’t be a crisis of faith.
And the stones silk-screened on my shirts
Star (Wars and Trek), Zeppelin (Led)
and the Beastie Boys (all three nice Jewish boys).
They decorate my Breastplate of Judgement
like tribes. I’m the high priest of my own special world.
One more thing; God is a meat-eater.
Asks for two lambs a day, one on the morning,
one in the afternoon.
Promises to dwell amongst us.
Maybe this is why I have trouble finding Him/Her.
I’m a vegetarian.
I don’t know if the Holy One
would like vegan lamb samosas.
I’d like to find out, though.