My father was a pinko
and my mother (who worked
in Manhattan and had riding
boots but no horse) well, she was
whatever was chic that week.
I was born in the Bronx
so whenever a Jew tries his
You don’t know what it
means to be a minority…on me
I’ve been known to say:
Blow it out the other way.
The only other goy in my class
was the Irish Catholic super’s oaf.
Green teeth and thick as a brick.
Azoy…azoy..and lately I’ve been thinking
my native language is really yiddish.
Until I was ten, I thought the lions
in all those wide-screen epics
had finished off that breakaway jewish sect.
And in a way, they did. With the
possible exceptions of Francis of Assisi
and Gandhi…and a handful of
Quakers in sandals (who travel like
a school of fish and are often seen holding
candles worthy of a sabbath seder)…
I don’t know any serious followers
of rabbi Yeshoua.