When God said, ‘Let
there be light,’ there
was light, father said.
When I tell your mother,
‘Let there be a pastrami sandwich
in the refrigerator for me
for lunch,’ I’m accused
of treating her like a slave.
But she doesn’t appreciate
that the one time she did it
I didn’t say anything about
how more than half was missing.
That’s not how you treat a slave.
there be light,’ there
was light, father said.
When I tell your mother,
‘Let there be a pastrami sandwich
in the refrigerator for me
for lunch,’ I’m accused
of treating her like a slave.
But she doesn’t appreciate
that the one time she did it
I didn’t say anything about
how more than half was missing.
That’s not how you treat a slave.
When The Rabbi Speaks, She Listens
When the rabbi says,
‘Let us rise to recite
the blessing,’ father said,
your mother stands up.
But when I say, ‘Dear,
we still have a long way
to drive. Why don’t I stop,
so you can stand and stretch,’
she won’t. She just tells me
to wake her up when we get there.
Hal Sirowitz is the former Poet laureate of Queens, New York. He's also a former elementary school teacher. He has stories about teaching on mrbellersneighborhood.com. He can be reached at halsirowitz@yahoo.com.
İHal Sirowitz All Rights Reserved