Testing the warm milk
on her wrist, she sighs softly.
But her son is forty.
After the warm rain
the sweet smell of camellias.
Did you wipe your feet?
Her lips near my ear,
Aunt Sadie whispers the name
of her friend's disease.
Today I am a man.
Tomorrow I will return
to the seventh grade.
The shivah visit:
so sorry about your loss.
Now back to my problems.
Sorry I'm not home
to take your call. At the tone
please state your bad news.
Is one Nobel Prize
so much to ask from a child
after all I've done?
Yenta. Shmeer. Gevalt.
Shlemiel. Shlimazl. Meshuganah
Oy! To be fluent!
No comments:
Post a Comment