[Originally published in Burrowing In, Digging Out (1974) and The Choice (1977), both from David Meltzer’s Tree Books. See also the note at bottom of this posting & the essay on Drachler’s work by Christine Meilicke, which appeared as the posting on Poems and Poetics for April 19, 2017.]
THE COUNTING MADE THE
CORNERS RIGHT
The counting made
The corners
Of the building
True
One
One and one
Two
Two and one
Four horns
Corners
One and seven he
counted
One and six
The goat stayed
fluid
It steamed
Yellow eyes,
square pupils
Fringes of flesh
at its throat
They beat him with
sticks
They threw stones
at him
They sent him away
The goats were a
gift
Both goats
One to die and one
to drive away
One
One and one
Two
Two and one
The counting was
washing
It was clean
It was for the
building
THE LETTERS OF THE BOOK
Aleph the cow with
wide horns
Her milk in the
night sky
Walks slowly on
clouds
Aleph to the tenth
power
She leads with
symbolic logic
To the throne of
milky pearl
Aleph the sky-cow
with lovely eyes
Wide-horned giver
she gives mankind
Her sign of
is-ness. The cow
Bayz the house snug
Under the heat of
the sun
Out of the rain
and the snow
We curl up in a
corner
Under the roof of
Bayz
Out of the daily
sorrow
Bayz the comforter
Inhabited by
humanity
Cat-like and
childlike
Inside of his Bayz
Ghimel the camel
Carries man into
the book
The leaves and
waves
Of the forest the
sea of the book
Boat of the desert
the camel
Long traveler
drinking the task
Ghimel drinks the
dry road of daily observance
It slakes the
thirst for communion
Daled the door
like a wall
No hinges no
handle
Daled the
mysterious opener
Into a place with
a road
The six hundred
and thirteen small roads
I have swallowed
Vav the hook
It had something
tasty and nourishing on it
A Promise of
plenty and friendship
With someone more
than myself
I’ve got Vav the
hook in my gut shift to rearrange the discomfort
Like a sharp
minnow inside
When he draws up
the line
Attached to the
hook
When he rips the
Vav out
There will be
strange air around me
Burning my gills
Burning my gills
Yod the hand
And Koff the palm
Rested gently
On Raish the head
Of Abraham our
father
Who crossed over
Burning the idols
Behind him in Ur
He looked upward
At stars sun and
moon
Then looked
further
For a pat on the
head
From Yod and Koff
The unseen hand
and palm
In the crook
Of the Lammed
leaning forward
I put my neck when
I pray
My shepherd makes
me meek
He makes my knees
bend
H guides me I
follow
With the loop of
the Lammed
On my throat
I go
Mem is the water
Sweetly obeying
The red-raging
water
Which parted
Mem came together
And drowned the
pursuers
Stubborn refusers
of freedom
The enslavers Mem
drowned them
Mem was the water
Brackish
tormenting
Sweetened with
leaves
By our Moses
The waters of
trust
Which he struck
from the rock
Mem mayim water
The jelly-glowing
eye full of love
Sees past the eye
the Ayin
Like a dog it
perceives the hidden
It turns and stares
at its master
It pleads with him
to come home
the longing for
certainty
Fills him too full
Return, my master,
he says
Your eye to my eye
Ayin
Peh the mouth
speaking hastily
Praying easily
fast without reverence
Full of gossip
causing estrangement
Let my soul be as
dust to Peh
The loud quarreler
the prattler
The carrier of
tales to and fro
The beguiler the
mouth Peh better still
Shin is the tooth
It chews on the
word
(With the dot on
the left
It is Sin)
So much sharper
than Shin the tooth
Is learning in the
study
Together by
dimlight
Chuckling together
at the tooth
The horn that was
known to gore
The tooth for a
tooth in our story
The sharp-toothed
father
Of our fathers
Who was wont to
gore in the past
COUNTING THE BIRDS
a scorner a watcher
a screecher
a warner
a crested commander
a blue demander
a four colored blue
a jay
a tree top caller
a fire
a green dusted fire
a crier
a crested sayer
a ten time prayer
a two a pair
bright fallers
quiet hoppers
a fair pair
a touhee
a touhee
a four color bird
a three color bird
a one eye a one eye
a stare on the stair
an imp
ertinent hopper
a stopper a stayer
a one eye a touhee
a thrasher
a scraper
a searcher a lurcher
a red brown thrasher
a focus in motion
a leaf mold searcher
a brown leaf thrasher
a ground watcher
a searcher for motion
a brown searcher
a pair
a true crew
a nodder a prodder
a weaver
a figure eight dancer
a crew of two
a true trait
a constant mourner
two mourning doves
two
NOTE & AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL NOTE. Drachler’s poems are in a line
with other works of the 1970s & 1980s that reflected an early fascination
with the powers of the Hebrew alphabet (or any other system of writing, by
extension), both as letters & as numbers.
Their kinship, before we ever knew of her, was to my own Gematria &
to aspects of the poetry and poetics of practitioners such as David Meltzer,
Nathaniel Tarn, Jackson Mac Low (his magnificent Presidents of the United States of America, among other alphabetic works), or the letter-based
collages of Wallace Berman. Her
self-effacing & precise “Biographical Note” from her notes to The Choice is clearly worth reprinting
here; viz: I am truly a non-person. I have been mistaken for the janitor’s wife,
a nurse for dogs, an aunt, a good witch, a poet, a distinguished (dead)
actress, a mother. I suffer from the
spiteful machinations of my grand piano.
I am compelled to continue a needlepoint rug the size of a ballroom by
the lust of the eye of the needle for friction with wool. Strangers tell me the most intimate story of
their lives and drunken Ukrainians propose marriage to me on the subway on
Friday afternoons. I am old and
ugly. I was born old but interested. Water loves me. I have been married to it for more than half
a century. I know the language of fish
and birds. Also squirrels and
toads. I am a convert to Orthodox Jewry,
also I have tried riding a broomstick. I
had a vision of the double Shekhina on Amsterdam Avenue and 110th Street. I have taught cooking and sewing to beautiful
Cantonese girls and the affectionate daughters of Mafiosi. I am married to an irascible but loving
artist. A nay-sayer. My parents drove each other crazy. Me too.
Which turned me to books and poetry and I thank them for it.
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