store owner that this dog would grow and become fierce and powerful, but it stayed delicate and weak and afraid like her, the Jew. was his hatred of this cowardly dog a secular hatred? or was a Christian
always a Christian, was it a Christian fist, a Christian penis, a Christian beer-drinking-gambler-stud, a Christian vanity, a Christian hater of the weak, and all the weak were Jews, and all the Jews were
female, and the smell of Jewish fear and female fear were the same,
dizzying, exciting, so that vengeance was sex and the wail that shattered bones was the payoff? bertha and her dog cowering in silence having been beaten the dog shivered its skin quaked on its bones
bertha too silent and quaking no wail could shatter the Christians
bones but any wail shattering enough could bring the Christian to
orgasm, was it a lust for Jewish blood that had made him marry her
and did her dog, german, betray him by reminding him of her and so
he had had it raped and had had to beat them both?
allies, they had run away together, the cold pavements, the
downpouring rain, the ice of winter, nothing could make them abandon each other, they had each others eyes and the same trembling day and night.
for months, on nothing, they had lived until in the dead of a clear
night bertha had had to choose, there were no more shelters to find,
no more dollars to be conjured up out of menial work or thin air, no
more friends to take them both in, no more nerves in her body not
raw and sick from worry and hunger, no more hope of a tomorrow
with enough money to feed them both, is it ever possible to choose
another life above ones own? human even, is it ever possible? bertha
smelled the russian alleys, the german showers, the gas coming up
enveloping choking smothering, bertha delivered her dog, her own
eyes, into the ovens, years later, walking on the Lower East Side, the
relentless sadness alone moving through her, she thought she saw
her dog in the back of an open truck with 2 other german
shepherds—expressionless, still small and thin, in chains.
as she kissed his neck, nausea rose up in her. was it a Christian neck
or a secular neck? steak broiling, wine half emptied from beautifully
formed glasses, even now did he smell her blood flowing anticipate
the moment of opening every vein with his penis, was it a Christian
penis or a secular penis, wanting to take back everything that had
been taken from her she tried ripping off his penis with her bare
hands, he lay twisted up in agony at her feet, was it a Christian agony
or a secular agony, pulling him by his neck the flesh nearly crumbling in her hands she dragged his body into the hall, spit on him, looked at her hands, empty, knowing she had gotten nothing back at
all. it wasnt Jewish nothing because those boys had the Law. it was
female nothing, secular, aged pure grief, raging nothing, murderous
nothing, unrelentingly sad.
8
the slit
In these delicate vessels is borne onward through
the ages the treasure of human affections.
George Eliot,
she was slit in the middle, a knife into the abdomen, his head rose up
from the bloody mess, indistinguishable from her own inner slime,
this was
