"It's about words, and words are all I have…"

how can we dance when our beds are burning?

our mother cannot die in the same bed

as him  mattress burned beyond recognition

in a bonfire   along with family money   condo

remade by rabbis daughter  with bucks to spare


didn’t care for our bourgeoisied palette   no!

+daddy’s ghost  sniffing a ponderous +schmaltzy

woman   fled    now dead for 30   the bed  where

mother will die  lies on bathurst st.


where jews drive like shit  +little fielding melishes

dribble balls +dart into traffic  their own mothers

brisketladen  +farbissen  many with 10 kids  as the

husbands twirl tallis strings   always smiling



..above the drawing room on the first floor , was the

bedroom, which was the birth centre; the death centre 

of the house. Both her mother and father died there..

(Hermione Lee   Virginia Woolf   1997)





Hanukkah  2019  🕎

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