You may be dressed up fancy,
Disguised from even yourself.
Wearing the uniform of the Cola Empire,
Surprised by even yourself.
Your T-shirt may host a website,
Your shoes, North Sea Oil platforms.
Your hair may be seven shades of green, and your ears, more pierced
than your eyes are piercing.
But all your disguises are no more
than the goatskins
on the arms
of your father
Jacob.
This poem originally appeared in
SEASONS OF THE MOON for Adar 5757.
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