coco-almond-nut

AELST, Willem van (willem van aelst)

Today I saw a single Hasidic family occupy a whole row of a subway car bench. The children: two boys with curly Qs, a daughter with glasses and a Torah on kindle, baby twins, a teen popping a pimple, and a toddler in a mini navy uniform, her legs splayed apart. I saw her panties. Pink, orange, white stripes. Seeing those panties I thought: when she looks at a rhinestone on the subway platform floor does she think it’s a pink diamond? When it’s Seder and she can’t have leavened bread does she most crave the donut, the kind with chocolate frosting that sticks on front teeth like grubby piano keys, the kind that lady’s biting, getting sprinkles on my coat sleeve? Does she have a special plate at home that’s always hers –the one with the deer or duck on it, or a primrose wreath on it, a halo? Is the plate made of a squeaky plastic that never breaks whens she throws it on the ground to explode the fried egg? And the yolk on a good day is orange on a bad day is mustard clot green? I thought about the-diamond-the-donut-the-deer-plate after one quick glance at her, but the other children didn’t make me feel anything except the smell of curling irons. I’m wearing those panties.

George Hendrik Breitner, Geesje Kwak in Japanse kimono, ca. 1890s (george hendrik brietner)

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