The Jewish American Dream

I recently entered a poetry contest sponsored by Jewish Currents, a self-described “Progressive, Secular Voice” that has a long pedigree/yichus in secular Judaism. The theme of the contest was “The American Dream.”

“Dumplings and Dreams”

“Kreplach in a khoylem
Iz nit keyn kreplach
Nor a khoylem.”
“Dumplings in a dream
Are not dumplings
But a dream.”

The American Dream
Is not America
But a dream.

“Land where my fathers died.”
Not Lithuania, Belarus,
Aleppo, Paris,
Jerusalem.
Real graves are dumplings, the song the dream.

“We the People” –
Not in A People’s History,
Not powerless people, native people,
Dark people, women people.
Real lives are dumplings, the words the dream.

“One Nation Under God” –
Your god? My god?
Whose god? Why god?
Why not “In Good We Trust?”
Doubts are dumplings, the slogan the dream.

But dreams mean,
Said Sigmund, Gaon of Vienna.
Seven fat dumplings eaten by seven lean.
Not fate, maybe future.
Not reality; changing reality.

Some say
“The American Dream” is
Jewish Hollywood dream.
Safe home, blonde wife,
2.2 kids in 2.2 cars.

Some say
“The American Dream” is
American nightmare.
Built of bodies and blood,
Screams and silence.

Dreams mean.

“Im tirtzu,
ayn zo agada
If you will it,
It is no dream.”
It is no longer only a dream.

My fathers died there,
But mine will die here,
As will my son’s.
We are The People,
A still more perfect union,
One nation in diversity,
God-optional,
Blended, cross-pollinated,
Mixed and miscegenated,
Hybrid vigor’s fruits
From Jewish roots.

Dreams become.
Dreams become the possible,
Then possible becomes present.

Kreplach in America
Are both kreplach
And dumplings.

The American Dream
Is not America,
Is America,
Is a dream,
Is.

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