and the odd thought comes to me how much in their rich sheen, their sheer abundance, their hunger without end, if I let them they can seem akin to roaches; even their curt, coarse cry: mightn those subversive voices beneath us sound like that?
Roaches, though … Last year, our apartment house was overrun, insecticides didn’t work, there’d be roaches on our toothbrushes ……and combs. The widower downstairs—this is awful—who’d gone through ……deportation and the camps and was close to dying now and would sometimes ……faint, was found one morning lying wedged between his toilet and a wall, naked, barely breathing, the entire surface of his skin alive with the insolent, impervious brutes, who were no longer daunted by the light, or us—the Samaritan neighbor had to scrape them off. 2. Vermin, poison, atrocious death: what different resonance they have in our age of suicide as armament, anthrax, resurrected pox. Every other week brings new warnings, new false alarms; it’s hard to know how much to be afraid, or even how. The second world war was barely over, in annihilated cities children just my age still foraged for scraps of bread, and we were being taught that our war would be nuclear, that if we weren’t incinerated, th
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