On the Occasion of having Ham placed on a table where I was invited to tea,

Something went dead
Inside of me!
I suddenly got quiet
"Turn it on"
I said to myself
But the inner control wasn't working.

"Aren't you feeling well?"

-"I'm alright". I had no aches No pains I was feeling fine Even hungry, Even longing to eat After all You had tried your best to please us. Your only idea was to give us pleasure. Why be surly? Why be "the wedding guest"? The unwelcome spirit at the tea Reminding everyone How good she is How bad they are And thus pushing herself into even more "Goodness" Than she even feels. "Don't be a wet blanket What's the big deal-? So you drink some tea in a teacup Some butter on some bread Some raw carrot. They tried their best to make you feel at home." All these things, I, who Was sitting at your table, Was thinking. That was the I who was born in America At the turn of the century Shortly before World War I, Socially acceptable, The life of the party Jazz Charleston Flapper "All for One and one for all" "Till death do us part" "Nothing to fear but fear itself" "It can't happen here" "Two chickens in every pot" "Two cars in every garage" "Bigger and better" Election night on Times Square But there was another "I" sitting there Born of a gene That was born of a gene For generations From the beginning Out of someone Nourished by the past in the womb. From the first lessons learned "One does not eat lamb cooked in the milk of its mother" First stumbling words "Milshig Fleishig" Each strand separate Yet more joined than Metal soldered to metal To that genetic core That is "Jew"; Strands, weak in themselves, Making cables Of strength For thousands of years. After that comes a treble voice More clear and more sure "Kosher" "Shabbat" And God's name every minute For some blessing or other Part of the day's patter and pattern "Blessed be Thou, O Lord, God of the Universe Who created the fruit of the tree, the fruit of the earth the fruit of the vine" "Blessed be Thou o Lord, King of the universe Who bringeth Bread up from the earth." Strand upon strand of the cable Around the genetic core That is Jew Strands weak in themselves Opium of the people Medieval stuff Tribal superstition Making cables of strength For thousands of years. From childhood to manhood From patter to matter Matter more than life to some "You may eat of the regurgitating Animals with cloven hoofs But of the pig, you may not eat" This is a strand Hardened by blows of the smithy Whose outbursts of paranoid anger Repeated itself through generations. Like a volcano Seeming dead It erupts From its bowels, A catharsis of hatred Directed against the Jew, It attacks the core The backbone The pride To find the vulnerable strand That slowly will unwind all the others "Eat pig! And "Eat, Pig! It screams in its madness Belching out gas, Luring Insanely methodical To death. Body or soul. "Have you a soul?" I was asked only yesterday "I have," I answered, only yesterday "Where is it?" I was asked only yesterday Is it inside of you or Is it outside of you? Inside," I answered Only yesterday. Do you now know why I just couldn't Eat at your table today?