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There is a certain place where dumb-waiters boom, doors slam, dishes crash; every window is a mother’s mouth bidding the street shut up, go skate somewhere else, come home. My voice is the loudest. […
for Aaron Lebedeff (1873–1960), performer on the Yiddish stage
Bewildering clarity of tongues:
names you never heard, food
you never ate, a wild dance
you never learned, light hanging
in the sky…
She heard a sudden loud squeaking, so she raised her head. Seeing the cart she let out a happy shout: “A troupe!”
Her mother came out from the kitchen and looked through the window. “A fat lot of good…