What if we just went back? We could, you know.
I’m not really serious.
But, surely it’s our land as much as theirs.
We’ve been in Poland for about as long
as Magyars have in Hungary, and far more
than Russians in St Petersburg; that’s clear.
So why do we believe them when they say
that we’re the Wandering Race, like some lost dogs
who don’t know where our home is. Once, we knew!
We schlepped the golus, sure, but in one place
that we came home to sleep in every night.
That: that’s a home. Like it or not, it is.
And this Amerikeh, our golden land,
we’ve been here, what, a hundred twenty years?
Most of us less! And you think that’s a home?
That’s a vacation, by the standards of
a people who have lived as long as us.
Thousands of years, and you want me to care
about some century of growing roots?
Fuhgeddaboudit–find some other sap
to buy this bridge, this bullshit fairy tale.
What if we just went back? We really could.
Maybe I’m serious.
And anyway, di goldeneh medineh,
is it so great, once we can see its warts?
We came here fleeing Nazis; well guess what?
They have those here; apparently a lot.
Our grandparents were sold a bill of goods.
And yes, there are still racists there as well.
But when they come we’ll all know where we stand.
None of this fucking “are we white?” debate,
no trite remarks about Ivanka Trump,
we’ll just be who we are, and face them down.
And yes, of course we’ll fight for liberation,
not as the good white folks who understand
what those poor people must be going through,
but as a people fighting for ourselves,
with friends and allies all across the world
in freedom, solidarity, and love.
It won’t be quick; but wouldn’t it be lovely
to struggle without wondering where we fit?
To fight on our own turf? And one more thing:
we beat them once in Europe, don’t forget.
They’re scary, yeah, but Nazis also lost.
We’ll do it again, if our hands are forced.
What if we just went back? Maybe we should.
I’m kinda serious.