I like to make rum cakes
And coffee cookies
And doctor my raisins with liqueur,
Saturdays where I eat crumpets and croissants
And play dress-up in mommy's jewelry;
But her dresses are too big, they
Sag in the front and don't cover my shoulders
And are scratchy but beautiful but big
But elegant but not made for little girls.
I want to be Edith Piaf--
Edith Piaf in Jewess finery.

Funny, mama says, how sometimes
People are most proud of what others think they
Should be ashamed of.
Like today, me and my sister walking
Through town and a drunkard lagged after us;
He threw rocks and pebbles and grapes at our heads
And called us little Jewess whores and
My sister kicked him in the shins
And laughed and held my hand
All the way home.

(I am)
Different, maybe, but
I have my little lamp
And my microphone.

A/N: I am not Jewish; but, I have recently been reading Joyce Carol Oates' book "The Tattooed Girl" (those of you that have read it know what I mean).