MARIACHIS AND MINE YIDDISH MAMMALEH ON THE #7 TRAIN
http://www.maverickmagazine.com/articles/306/1/MARIACHIS-AND-MINE-YIDDISH-MAMMALEH-ON-THE-7-TRAIN/Page1.html
Shelly Ettinger
Shelly Ettinger has published poems in Mississippi Review, Word Is Bond, La Petite Zine, Blithe House Quarterly, Lodestar Quarterly, Mudlark, Facets, Blue Fifth Review, Snow Monkey, Glass Tesseract, Pindeldyboz, Epiphany and other journals. She's currently finishing work on her first novel.By Shelly Ettinger
Published on 02/23/2005
There was the day I was tired blue bone beat oxygen
deprived lack of sleep dove for a seat. Sat. Met no eye. Mute morning
willed myself to work. Doh-des-kah-den train trotted track toward
Manhattan. Then a note thin exquisite scissored air. Lifted my head.
Five gnarled nubs fingered fiddle neck right hand bowed Stradivarian
pecs. Then a voice.
There was the day I was tired blue bone beat oxygen deprived lack of sleep dove for a seat. Sat. Met no eye. Mute morning willed myself to work. Doh-des-kah-den train trotted track toward Manhattan. Then a note thin exquisite scissored air. Lifted my head. Five gnarled nubs fingered fiddle neck right hand bowed Stradivarian pecs. Then a voice. White whiskered lulled soothed sobbed rough lullaby. Sly. A cry a laugh. What language in a single breath all that? I looked about. Every eye on the violinist tabloids down no talk his song a dart in every heart. Then oy a ragged sigh mine. I recognized here a word there a gesture breath. It's Yiddish I said asked begged. Nu the old guy shrugged what else? You expected opera a classical concerto I should maybe play a symphony?
There was the night that night in fact I parked my butt on a hard plastic bench leaned sticky back sweat drenched glad to escape the street station stink. Doh-des-kah-den headed home to Queens. Started to read. Now a note. A string plucked sweet and tangy two then three struck clean through me. Book shut I gazed. Sombreros bolos sad deep smiling eyes. Throats throbbed lilting tones soothed sobbed laughed ay-ay-ay-ay laments. Dulcet tenor breathy bass baritone vibrato on the International Express. Gnarled nubs strummed guitarrón. I looked about. Every eye on the mariachis tabloids down no talk their melody a gift to tired evening hearts. Then ah a ragged sigh mine. I recognized few words heard corazón exchanged a fast shy glance across the aisle watched Woodside pass I'd missed my stop. Stayed on the train till Jackson Heights.
Copyright © Shelly Ettinger, 2005. All Rights Reserved.
There was the night that night in fact I parked my butt on a hard plastic bench leaned sticky back sweat drenched glad to escape the street station stink. Doh-des-kah-den headed home to Queens. Started to read. Now a note. A string plucked sweet and tangy two then three struck clean through me. Book shut I gazed. Sombreros bolos sad deep smiling eyes. Throats throbbed lilting tones soothed sobbed laughed ay-ay-ay-ay laments. Dulcet tenor breathy bass baritone vibrato on the International Express. Gnarled nubs strummed guitarrón. I looked about. Every eye on the mariachis tabloids down no talk their melody a gift to tired evening hearts. Then ah a ragged sigh mine. I recognized few words heard corazón exchanged a fast shy glance across the aisle watched Woodside pass I'd missed my stop. Stayed on the train till Jackson Heights.
Copyright © Shelly Ettinger, 2005. All Rights Reserved.