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


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