The Smell of my Grandmother’s House

 

 

The dreariness of the smell of my grandmouther’s house

It was a moist, slightly feral smell

Like a furry shawl becoming a water rat

Its tail snapping your nuts

As you lied in your Grandmother’s bed

 

Mostly, it was a clean house

Indeed, the super was a proper german burgher

And his wife had a picture of Hitler on the wall

And his wife and my grandmother angrily grated potatoes

And dreamed of their own special third world war

 

Of Jews against Germans, Jews and Germans and our combined rage

Will blow up the earth

As it should be blown up

At it’s written in our bibles

And we promise to blow it up as we eat potato pancakes

 

And when we didn’t eat we became shrimps

No bigger than our miserable penises

Razed by our Fathers, experimented on by Germans

And under the bare bathroom light

The old ladies cackle about the niggers and the gooks

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 2005

Advertisements


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s