Cultural

Anything worth celebrating
was salted with the dread
it could be snatched away.
God willing uttered like
a spell to ward off jinxes.
They saved their stories
about the old country—
how their families fled.
For when you’re older.
Like our college funds.
But openly discussed
politics and the Holocaust
at the dinner table. More
likely to overfeed than hug,
sarcasm an instrument
they tuned to serenade
or discipline us. The dryer
the humor, the bleaker
the warning. Well, if
that’s what you think best—
what do I know? Usually
enough to halt us in our tracks.
They taught kvetching
was healthier than seething.
Hardly drank. But got high
on coffee and crumb cake.
And finally learned to stop
asking if our dates were Jewish
once we learned to ask
if we’d be having Pork cutlets
again for Passover?

Michael Montlack is author of two books of poetry and editor of the Lambda Finalist essay anthology My Diva: 65 Gay Men on the Women Who Inspire Them (University of Wisconsin Press). His work has appeared in North American Review, The Offing, Prairie Schooner, Cincinnati Review, Court Green, and The Gay & Lesbian Review.