My Aunt Sadie, of course, was the one
Who remembered that Max, now dying,
Had somewhere acquired a banshee
Who'd have to be gotten to the hospital.
Max always had to be different; the Feingolds,
The Rappaports, the Zimmers -- they all had proper dybbuks
And three blocks over from Snediker Avenue
A golem, living over a shoe store, could be hired by the day.
If a druj nasu -- an Afghanistani corpse fiend --
Had come to Max he'd have shrugged and hired her
"How could I not? She was down on her luck
And such a long way from home."
No comments:
Post a Comment