exile exile from exile to exile on main street and mean streets exile from a life you dreamed of a life you worked hard for a life you were taught a life you were raised to a life you were meant for a life planned and hoped for a life that was supposed to be a life lost the scents coming through the curtains sound of streets coming awake in the morning being woken up by by tiny hands seeing the same faces grow and wrinkle earning and buying your bread in the same factory from the same bakery to a life after a language not known to the sounds of foreign streets this city full of strangers a life you do not know and cannot grasp a life of cardboard boxes an emptied apartment a life of aching temples and sleepless nights a life never prepared for a life of learning anew exiled by a woman exiled by a war a dictator a dream a mistake a time exiled to starting all over with no map and and a banged up compass to a new beginning
Poetry, complaints, points of view and reports from the life of an Immigrant in Israel trying to start over after passing the prime of his youth.