Heather Weinreb

Bitter Remembrance

New York City

Remembrance is for a serpent, bitter:

When I was knotted round that clever Tree,

I saw a lizard scurrying. And he

Seemed to think that an atrocious critter

Could woo a woman. I would not permit her

To let that lizard crawl upon her knee,

His slimy fingers never could agree

With ruddy flesh, which, may I say, did glitter

And please the eye. I’m just. I do concede

That woman’s beauty’s fit for the one function

Of pleasing man. But lizards, on her breast

Should not find comfort. So, I did a deed

For which I will not ever feel compunction:

I showed her that she’s shamefully undressed.

Italians marry Jews

And visit Syracuse

To sway a lonely mom

To finance a dot com-

A bit like a-o-l,

Except done very well.

Then, as money flows-

Champagne and Broadway shows.

But when the money’s tight:

A jump from a great height.

Heather Weinreb is a writer and violin teacher from Montreal, Canada. Currently, she works as an editorial assistant for La Scena Musicale. Her essays and children's poems have also been published in Dappled Things and The Dirigible Balloon.