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| Me and Peter Lorre Down by the Schoolyard from My Kafka Century Arielle Greenberg |
Me and my sidekick, we’re both pederasts. Like you. We’re both in love with the girls, non-Jews. Ja, ja, we dress in our mother’s nightgown, we hang all the way around, Hungarians in ruin. Know us, our terrible noses, our clown makeup: we have no papers. We crawled out of the rat-hole. Like you, we wear our difference about our necks, blind as a fox stole, its glass teeth, its yellowed eye. The little girls, they cry. Like I. Please, policeman, heed our crime: ink the territory like a six-sided star around where we broke the kid from her line. They keep a record of each beggar, the names in a ledger, and later you’ll know the clove of our hoof. So clever. Kindermurderit sounds sweet as a game and we want food. We’ve got a toy ferris wheel full of knives, we smear our mouths into sugary smiles, then brandy, then into gash. A tubercular rag, you’ve caught our rash, the balloon-man making nein, one girl stuck in the telephone wires. Lifting higher. We take them from their candy, we take their names. Like you, they are never the same. |
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