I love musicals; doesn’t that make me Jewish?
I love musicals; isn’t it something for
which you wish?
For this don’t we all wish?
My mother loved musicals
and I was sure she was Jewish
but my DNA showed I was mostly Swedish.
I swoon when I hear all those great songs
written by Jews;
I just want to put on my dancing shoes.
They wrote songs about struggles Jewish
and we never knew which was which —
underdogs — slaves, depression whites, immigrants —
you’ve got to be carefully taught.
If you are all white in America,
you have to be carefully taught .
Who would ever have thought
that the Jews’ diaspora story
would grace the stage in such glory?
I love musicals; doesn’t that make me Jewish?
In my mind I dance across the stage
and wish and wish and wish.
And then there was Fiddler on the Roof,
a specifically designed
musical with only Jews in mind
and “May the Lord protect and defend you,”
and I knew for sure with The Producers
I was white, black, brown, red, yellow,
Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu
straight, LGBTQ
and Jewish through and through and through
and for all the musicals, thank you, thank
you, thank you.