Walking the (gang)plank
First off, some new poems… don’t be niggardly with feedback. There’s more to come, I have a few I have to chop up into posting trim.
Big news- your favorite undocumented drone is now an official immigrant, burdened with all the rights and paperwork therein. At my age, the government demands only six month of military service. I expect they’ll make me drive concrete from Beit Naballa to Kiryat Shmona or post me in some laundry warehouse full of russian malcontents. Luckily I have sufficient bureaucratic mana to obtain a written draft-delay form from the Technion so I can finish my degree before they dress me up like a crumpled olive leaf and make me salute.
For all you returning citizens… here’s a partial list of the forms I needed to hand in before they would even look at me:
Government ID (Teudat Zehut),
Grade transcripts dating back to 1997 (turns out my middle school grades have been archived on microfiche),
Work authorizations from both parents’ workplaces accounting for the last 5 years,
Transcripts from the Technion since I arrived,
Authorization from the military drafting station verifying that they know where they can find me.
The road is long but there are cookies at the finish line.