Lester, 1981, chicken broth
cooling beside the sink and my sisterís
junior high project recording. Zeyde,
please, the blossoms,
the burls of usÖ
I found him, my motherís father, filed
with many small capsules of the Dictaphone.
LESTER 1981, his cassette predating meó
the fact of our clan is that itís before,
and I am only just now to take the yad;
it is the carbon dating of lost Yiddish, borscht,
of abeyant eyes.
Within a Sony ark the interview
is rolling, its atoms stabilizing
like wisdom along the tape: his voice,
a nasal gulp taking the end
from every few words;
the sandy silence through which, at full volume,
her pen can be heard catching up.
Dan Friedman & David Zellnik
When Dialogue Harms
Friday Night Poetry
A Jewish Perspective on the Museum of the American Indian
with Esther Nussbaum on Yad Vashem
What, me Tremble?
Jonathan Vatner on Mentsh
Our 670 Back Pages
Zeek in Print
Spring 2005 issue now on sale!
From previous issues:
Hasidism and Homoeroticism
When I Met Humility, I Saw Letters