Shifting shades afflict the ghost of David Rodinsky

As he returns to his room in Whitechapel, London

For one last look at the Aramaic and Hebrew texts

Which provided him with the hex of disappearance.

Where he came from nobody knows. Was he Jewish?

Yes and no. Was he British? Who knows? Not he.

Certainly he lived there once: ate, slept defecated

Until 1969 when he took time in hand, walked out

Of his room, leaving all behind, and never returned

Until now. A shy ghost wondering what to look for.

Kabbalah was his A to Z, he followed and then he lead

Himself out of the strange interstices of time and

Space. He was always too early, he was always too late.

A story of obsession and possession, so much to relate.

(tbc)