ISSN 2371-350X

Poetry

Saul Leiter

 

By

Dov Weinman

 

 

Things They Have Told Me

 

 

because I heard Jews run the White House

and of course they run Hollywood

 

because all Jews like Chinese food

 

because I picked up a quarter from the

street and she said don’t be such a Jew

 

are you sure you’re Jewish

because you don’t look like a Jew

trust me I know what Jews look like

 

because Jews don’t get tattoos

 

because your mother only converted

doesn’t that mean you’re not a true Jew

 

because kike isn’t offensive anymore

 

because it’s a dated word

 

you mean you don’t believe in Jesus

because you will go to hell

if you don’t believe in Jesus

 

because it’s ignorant to still

be waiting for the messiah

 

because you cannot be Jewish

            if you do not believe in god

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blessings and Hard Candies

 

 

To the person at my older cousin Joey’s bar

mitzvah who handed out hard candies

instead of some type of soft chewable,

karma suggests that at your own kid’s bar

or bat mitzvah someone will happily hand

out sizeable gumballs.

 

To Joey, I just want to reiterate that I’m sorry,

when I waited patiently for the last few

people to shower you with candy as you

stood on the bimah after your torah

portion, I didn’t mean to hit you in the eye

with a fastball, and anyways a bar mitzvah

is not expected to be painless.

 

To my father, who raised me to worship

Jewish baseball legends like Hank

Greenburg and Al Rosen, why didn’t you

anticipate and put a stop to my Sandy

Koufax inspired windup, but I want to

thank you for allowing me to burrow my

face into your shoulder, for soaking up my

tears with your tallit.

 

And to my grandfather, who sat on the other

side of my father and laughed, who when

the ever-bearded Rabbi Yitzhak asked the

congregation to bless Joey with virtues for

adulthood, rose his voice and blessed him

with the ability to forgive, I ask now, years

after you’re gone, bless me too Grandpa,

bless me too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dov Weinman

I was molded in Eugene, Oregon, nestled in the lush Willamette valley between the Cascades and the rugged coast. For most of the last decade mountain running and wilderness has helped me cultivate new, deep roots in Missoula, Montana. I finished my first degree in the College of Forestry and Conservation and after taking some time to work and travel have recently completed a Master of Science in Environmental Studies.

We’re born places. Some folks remain there. Others are carried to new lands, dispersing like seeds to take roots in new landscapes. Home is mobile, dynamic, and I think if you open yourself to the beauty of a place, you can make anywhere a home.

New currents are pulling me across the ocean, where I’ll be serving in the Peace Corps as a coastal resource management volunteer in the Philippines.

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One Response to “Poetry”

  1. P.Selvaraj says:

    What’s the message in the poem on Jews?

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