B. Jacob Sandock
Glatt Koysher Vapour
                                    

himself, coming from a long line
of Yekkishes, German Rebbeim
prestigious Rebbeim
he is equipped as such with
no sweat glands of any kind
and lilly white hands
(he displays them proudly
whilst speeching)
hands so soft as to off-put Satan
never lifted a hammer
never used them to beg for his life
and--further unencumbered by the need
to relieve himself--he spends his time
here, his great time
in great study
and speeches
and all that time in the Torah
wrapped in its tallis
like a babe down the Yarden
inside it and around it
and photographic recall
and hands soft enough to get him
through it, though it's not been
through him,
hands so soft as to not have
shook his neighbors
(or even know the fella's name)
never broke down in Dover
looked a street bum in the eye
warmed by a chance encounter
or a glass of warm sake, shared
with a fellow
but instead
"suckled from the breasts
of the Torah!"
shouting from his pulpit
"Like hungry pups! Suckling!"
does not excrete waste but
gaseous lilly petal juice in the form of
dancing Hebrew letters
Glatt Koysher Vapour
and, dreaming of Central Park
West while sermoning
all us sinners,
sinning together,
he suckles and speeches alone
atop Mount Moriah


          
  B. Jacob Sandock is a bingo hall manager from Nowhere, Indiana. His work has appeared in The 13th Warrior Review, Gnome: The Online Journal of Underground Writing, the Manhattan Jewish Sentinel, Paisley Parsley's Parcel Post, Sex Guns and Motorcycles, Sonic Slang Music and Culture, FreestyleVision and previously in The Blue Jew Yorker. He is a 2008 Pushcart Prize nominee, formerly a Yeshiva bocher, he sometimes writes under the pen name L. Amos Sanchez and he speaks both Russian and Chinese poorly.
                                               
                                               
 © B. Jacob Sandock All Rights Reserved