Witz полностью

Israel, to rip off her dress. And Hanna, she’s tatteredly naked, immaculate, tearing: her hair, her hairs down below and bushcurly, as dense as her eyes, now being emptied she’s leaking all over, deluge through the ears and nose her mucose, stuffed, but runny, and through her mouth how she’s screaming herself by the wick of her tongue it’s on fire, shouting red blessings blackened to curses flaming at once, exhortations and honks from her pits and a fart, I love you, I’m sorry, I don’t…look at me, don’t you look at me, get out of here, stay, bring me a glass water, a couple of, tensing hard, the tush clench of the bottommost jaws, a gurgle boiled of wet dreck and blood — relaxing herself now into pain’s onrush, then tensing again and again. And at midnight, a halfhour later or so, He rises up, and she bears Him right there, loafed upon the table from which he, Israel, swipesoff the tablecloth in one movement deft with his wife and the vase and its flowers above her head, undisturbed — the very table upon which He might’ve been sown nine months earlier, has it really been that many moons ever since — tense, breathe, bearing Him, all of Him enormous, fullgrown, and it is a Him, Israel with joy and the boy with a whine and a beard and, what are those, glasses already, here on the table in the diningroom, late and yet a week just in time, in no way premature for what’s to birth with the coming of Xmas, the New Year, the secular’s turn…even old, old enough, what with those wrinkles and the pruning red and the wizened blue eyes and the mouth that’s ready to say — what’s with all that hair flecked ruddy blond and with these clunky glasses on how the daughters crowd in to get a better look, their drippy frames bent from His passage the better to know His parents by and His sisters, gasping in terror their own eyes, their own mouths as He’s wipedoff, amniotic forewater pissily pooled over his hairily rimmed and pudgily lipped mouth bubbling to burst upon His glasses’ lenses, smudgy with fluid, that and His, nu, you know, too, which is hairy as well, the beard down below and apparently, can it be, already circumcised, or else, an ornamentally tiny, scaly dangle, it seems, just now wiped away with a wrist-flick, soaked up to dissolve by a sponge that Rubina brings from the kitchen her own and with Josephine close at her heels, almost tripping, holding the challahknife with which she’s been entrusted, maturing already, slow down, sharpdown, with which Israel cuts the umbilicalcord then with its handle to smack His tush into breath — a cry upon which their expectations might now impose words, meaning, a life, help me, I love you, go away swaddled…Ima; as Israel, how not to answer, to give in to such a demand, a request so prodigious and especially easy to please, hands Him to Hanna bloody and wet in the tablecloth, which barely covers the whole huge boy, Him.

Serveths twelve (12).

Not twelve fullgrown, nor twelve halfgrown; not twelve male, nor twelve female; neither twelve kinder; not twelve fat, nor twelve skinny; not twelve of the holy, nor twelve of the unholy; but twelve all who art hungry, whose thirst knows no bounds.

And as this recipe doth serveth twelve, she must doubleth — as twentyfour (24) are to dine here tonight.

Verily, these are the Ingredients — as they were received from Someone or Another’s hands at the very beginning of the timer’s wide circle:

2 chickens she has slaughtered, or purchasedeth preslaughtered,

2 onions, which she has peeledeth and quartered and,

4 carrots, peeledeth and slicedeth and,

They’re good for the eyes, Misses Feigenbaum says that’s what my mother Olev HaShalom always told me — I don’t know if it’s been proven or not, just know that’s what my mother

Olev HaShalom always told me…

2 leeks, slicedeth and,

2 turnips, peeledeth and quarteredeth and,

4 celerystalks and their leaves, choppedeth and,

4 sprigs of parsley, which are optional, though as Hanna said in the name of Down The Block Sarah, They are recommended…

Salt and pepper to taste

My husband doesn’t do well by salt, says Misses Feigenbaum.

He really shouldn’t.

And verily these are the Instructions that the Lord thy God hath given unto her this day, through the merit of the Sisterhood Cookbook:

Placeth the chicken in a pot of a capacity of many cubits, with the water, four (4) liters runnething over: Four, and not three, nor two, nor one, neither any other number not obtaining thereto, and bringeth slowly to a boil, removing scum as it forms, as it is written, Thou shalt removeth the scum, wheresoever thou shalt find it in the Land.

Addeth the vegetables, and the parsley, too, if thou shalt so opt, reserving a little for garnish. Seasoneth with salt and with pepper. Then cover, simmereth on low heat for two and one half hours, no less and no more, adding water as necessary to maintaineth original level.