––I’ll have to convene a meeting with the gods to determine

why in hell I didn’t receive “The Last Synagogue in Alexandria”

with the same tactile resonance as with other poems printed in the volume.

––the gods deliberated and adjudicated me as: "an idiot of the first order"

and with that justifiable tongue-lashing in tow, I re-visited the poem,

with a repentant eye, the way an empty-headed puppy looks into the space

between itself and the scowling homeowner after another shag carpet incident.

––so, pushing the gods adjudication aside, I'm currently in the process

of placing "The Last Synagogue in Alexandria" into the rapidly

expanding "mea culpa" footnotes to the enlightened "mucho respect" column.

(of Chloe Martinez /  "Ten Thousand Selves" / "The Word Works")