Sabbath Siren

A few minutes ago, sitting at my desk, writing, I heard what sounded like an air raid siren coming from somewhere off to the left out my window, which is at the back of the building, facing west to Prospect Park and Grand Army Plaza, which suggests the sound to be coming from the south-west which is, more or less, further down Eastern Parkway, the Lubovitch sect’s area of the neighbourhood. Friday evening, 8 p.m., dusk… close to sunset… Orthodox Jewish… the Sabbath… Bingo!

The siren, which sounds to me just like the ones I heard during tornado season while living in Lawrence, Kansas, belongs to the local Orthodox Jewish community, and has just now stopped signalling the onset of Sabbath. In the stunned aftermath a few dogs bark, but apart from that, there’s uneasy silence. I put on my earphones and resume listening to Debussy’s “Clair de Lune”. Soon enough the cars in my immediate area will begin to vibrate with rap and hip hop from Crown Height’s other predominant demographic, signalling the onset of the Memorial Day weekend.

Published by

David McBloglin

My name is David McLoghlin, I am the author of "Waiting for Saint Brendan and Other Poems" (Salmon Poetry, July 2012); I am an Irish poet, writer and literary translator, who currently lives in New York, and blogs about its vicissitudes, while not writing other things, like my 2nd collection. I moved to NYC in 2010 to study at NYU's MFA Program in Creative Writing, from which I graduated in 2012, two months before my book was published. Before moving to the US, I lived in Ireland, Spain, Belgium, France, the USA, and travelled in a variety of countries (including Morocco, Czechoslovakia (when it was that country), Paraguay, Uruguay, Argentina and Norway), whilst engaged in a number of pursuits. came about as a catch-all for impressions related to moving to NYC alone: culture shock, in essence, and all her ugly sisters.

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