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UNKNOWING

Louis Faber

I don't know what
I am, the Buddha said.

I don't know why
my mother gave me up at birth
or how many cousins walk
the streets of Lisbon
or where I lost my first tooth
I don't know what
became of the nickel
or why the tooth fairy was so tight
or who will wash the blood
from the streets of Basra
I don't know how
my walkman eats batteries
like Hostess Twinkies
or why fungus grows underground
or why the Somali child stares through
starving eyes
I don't know why
my dough rises, only to fall mockingly,
or why forced to eat matzah, the Jews
didn't go back to Egypt
or why I poke my sore knee to insure it hurts

I don't know
my birthright name

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