Two weeks ago, my darling Judith and I took a road trip to the Golan Heights. We passed through gorgeous villages, chic towns, and artists‘ collectives. We played tourist in our own country, asking ourselves, could we imagine living here, there, or anywhere outside the luring borders of Tel Aviv?
We’ve caved in, and say to you, no thanks. Tel Aviv has possessed us. And we’re too caught up in Her drama of relentless abuse and raging passion….
Tel Aviv, while I’ll do anything for you, you continue to slap me with an insane cost of living. You push me around in crowded buses. And, you shout like a madman at the shuk. We’re all just eager to please, but you kick us out in the pouring rain with an overwhelmed sewerage system.
You could be such a bitch. But I am so weak and defeated. You seduce me with your sultry food. I surrender to your flirtatious bars. And I’m tempted by your expensive fashion. The sun is blinding and your beaches arousing. At the end of it all, I’m nothing than a prisoner of your kiss, with the taste of fun on your lips.
I know your love is no good. But that’s ok, please don’t stop. After all, Tel Aviv, what’s love got to do with it?
I could write ANOTHER comment about how lovely your writing is…. but instead I’m choosing to make note of how that graffiti art tickles my gag reflexes. twice.
Thank you my dear. Yes, it’s grossly awesome!! 😉