Judith Roitman

five poems from Binary

God’s net
shining ocean.

One ant
in the darkness.

The turtle rests

Skin stretched.
Hand forgotten.


Bird like water.
Fingers under pocket.

He makes you make your own.
He won’t do anything for you.

Light rain along the highway.
Traffic strung like cablewire.

 I tried to call.
You don’t check messages.


Because I was blind
I couldn’t see my eyes.

You too! mind

The last paper falling in the chasm.
Who will take us in?

 Elephants at the waterhole:
no tusks.


Forest rock.
Horizon curve.

Light through eyelids.
Knees on ground.

You can’t have enough of this.
Birds don’t know what’s good for them.

Come here. Come closer.
Take what you want and go.


I did what I was supposed to do.
I screamed until my ears fell off.

Inside the cave there’s another cave.
You can’t stop it. Our mouths fill with it.

Her body parts were unrecognizable.
They fell down like morning glories.

 Feet into shoes
like caterpillars.