The Final Singalong — A Poem for Haftarah Ha’azinu

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Since I spend so much time singing ancient Jewish words
with the children of the San Fernando Valley, I was so pleased

to see King David wrote a song…like Moses before him
wrote a song. A song I thought you’d never hear on the radio

because of it’s staggering 945 word count with no refrain at all,
until I realized they’ve been playing the 2633 words of

Alice’s Restaurant for decades, not to mention the encyclopedic-
lengthed 5083 words of R. Kelley’s Trapped in the closet.

Why can’t we set the whole thing to music and demand
heavy rotation? Is that what David had in mind? Is that why

he included the word nostrils  twice, so it would have
more of a quirky pop-appeal?

This is the last song of the year. A duet with Moses who
sings posthumously. They were the first two to do this.

To sing of strength. To sing of the source of our comfort.
Their songs are our songs and we are still collecting

the royalties. This music, our inheritance. I say always
end with song. Ideally one everyone can sing.

We’ve got one more chapter before we start this
whole thing over, and sometimes because of the

peculiar ways in which the days of the week land
on the calendar, we don’t even read it. We find ourselves

at the beginning again, wondering how we got here.
So sing this song. Repeat parts of it to extend this cycle

beyond its natural boundaries. And ha-azinu . . . listen.
Let all the voices go into your ears. They’ve been

echoing from generation to generation, ever since
they first left Moses and David’s lips.