The Occasional Jew
Cindy Duhe
I work just as hard as any man
given what I have
being as I am
I go through the motions
on holidays
as a good jew is supposed to.
Uncle Morty tells bad jokes
as they cut the
bris -
ket
But each and every day that passes
I forget I am a jew.
At work, I trudge on during the days of atonement
for which I am never atoned
but, around family, I display
my ability to hock up phlegm
with the rest of them
People outside never see
the true me.
They never know,
but I do,
that I am a jew.
My nose is flamboyant
in the way it speaks to the world
but every time I look in the mirror
I see me and
not a jew.
What you’re raised isn’t always what
you stay
as you can see
with me.
Only when I want a reason to be
victimized
rejected
turned down by a date
made the butt of a joke
or pulled over by a
pig
a cop on the street
am I a jew...
That’s why adversity crops up
and never flies away
because I am a jew
raised a jew
but am I?
If they don’t know, then
how could I?
