What Moses's Wife Says
back in the old country
I was a well-respected baker
people spoke lovingly about my babka
but that Moses
he was always in such a rush
"leave the yeast," he scolded
"pack my alarm clock"
feh on him
my mother warned me
I should have listened
you know what is his greatest pleasure these days?
that Burning Man mishegas
last time he came home he told me to call him
Moses-on-Fire
("Fire," for short)
I said to him
go clean out the basement
I'm tired of tripping over your
knicks and your knacks
What Geppetto Does Not Understand
Geppetto
what did you expect would happen when
out of the blue
you had a little boy
living with you
you called him
your son
but the villagers could see
that was not possible
his sharp pointy nose
in contrast to your own
flat wide one
and also
who was his mother?
no explanation would have been believable
so you said nothing
which was smart
since you were always a terrible liar
though Pinocchio was just the opposite
the people didn't like the boy
they didn't like him one bit
and soon they could not bear the sight of you, either
they whispered and gossiped
and when they spoke your name
more often than not
they also spat on the ground
oh Geppetto
you were too soft for your own good —
tears in your eyes when the village women
refused to sell you eggs or milk anymore
then your business dried up
(how is it possible, you asked yourself,
that no one has need of a woodcarver?)
and all the while
you only had eyes for your little Pinocchio
Nocci, you called him
or Pinny —
there were other endearments as well
your whole life you'd dreamed
of having a son
all those plans you made —
fishing! —
isn't that what fathers and sons did?
but Pinocchio
wasn't interested in fishing
he couldn't hold still for a minute
always pacing around the cottage
getting into this and that
up-ending your little jars and containers
spilling nails and pins all over the place
your tiny silver screws
so precious to you
rolled under the floorboards
never to be seen again
you didn't scold him
he didn't apologize
you toasted his bread over the open fire
until the day you ran out of flour
and the miller turned you away
no flour for the likes of you, he said
you wondered
what are the likes of me?
the people had turned against you
and that was that
before winter came
you and your boy
were gone
