Millions and Billions

Four hundred million dollars

For a ballroom for the prez,

The funding from some private sources;

Least that’s what he sez.

 

A billion dollars daily

For the conflict in Iran.

You’d think there could be better things

To spend that money on.

 

To people who can’t pay the rent

Or have to sometimes choose

Between food or medications,

It must seem they always lose.

 

Since the government is more concerned

With how it is perceived,

Though the way things are presented,

It’s more mocked now than believed.

 

I try to block these stories

But when mentioned in the news,

All these million billion numbers

Make me want to blow a fuse.

Old Familiar Recipes

Today I measured, chopped and baked

And all from scratch, with nothing faked,

From old familiar recipes

I know, to varying degrees.

 

The matzoh balls I shaped, as well,

(The soup, however, made by Mel*)

And last, charoses** was prepared

With not one nut or apple spared.

 

The kitchen’s not my natural spot,

But on the holidays, I’ve got

The need to potchke*** so I feel

Connected to this ancient meal.

 

My husband asked me why I fuss,

A question worthy to discuss,

Yet all that I can say, for me,

Is this is how it has to be.

 

For even if nobody cared

About these dishes I have shared,

I’ll keep traditions up, unbowed

And know my grandmas would be proud.

 

*my husband  **a dish for the Passover meal

***fiddling or messing around, especially regarding cooking