Poetry
Winter 1965
Her Delirium
The old lady (a child of seven) cried in her sleep stop beating me! Zu hilfe! Zu hilfe! In the dark cellar her sons had murdered… And the policeman was […]
Poetry
Winter 1965
The Marriage Wig
If you’re going to marry, make sure you first know whom you’re going to divorce. —Yiddish Proverb 1. The Mishnah says I blind you with my hair, that when I […]