Selected Piece - Poetry

By Casey Nyvall, New York

Antisemitic, Holocaust, Destruction of the Second Temple—

You make your own words for my pain.

Did you know that Nazis dubbed themselves antisemites

To make their hate sound scientific?

Did you know that Holocaust is a Greek word

And that it means “burnt offering?”

I bet six million cents that you did not.

Jew-hate, Shoah, Churbn—these words are mine,

Jewish words for Jewish pain

They come out of my Jewish mouth.

I tell them to you, but there is one of me for every hundred of you

And I am six million brothers and sisters short of people

Who can cup their hands and shout behind me

Be my megaphones.

So I suppose it's fine that you don't listen

And yell that your words are better

Because they must be, because they're yours;

Barely anyone is left who cares.

So these words will disappear once they leave my lips—

You will never let these words be ours.